The Other Night
by AngelinaWeasley1
Summary: The end of a relationship does not always mean the end of the feelings that accompanied that relationship. Hermione grapples with this truth one particular Saturday night and the outcome may be far from what she expected.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Another H/Hr story! I love writing them as they're my Harry Potter OTP and I have a couple of story ideas about them in my head; this was just the next one to come out following _Moments of Closeness_. This was supposed to be a one-shot but it became a little too long in length, so I decided to convert it to a two-shot. The trope may be a little overdone but, hey, why not add to it? You can never have too much H/Hr content!

 **The Other Night**

Hermione frowned as she set down her wand and peered at her reflection in the vanity's mirror. Her hair now sat atop her head in a slightly messy, yet attractive, updo thanks to magic. It was easier to deal with her mane via magical means at times, but why was she even doing this?

Agreeing with Ginny to go out to a nightclub… what had possessed her? Nightlife was not exactly Hermione's thing. It never really had been, but at age 27, it was even less appealing than it may have been in her early 20s. But her redheaded friend was relentless and convincing, and after assuring the older witch that going out was essentially just going to be a Dumbledore's Army reunion of sorts, the Muggleborn had conceded after two and a half weeks.

And now, here Hermione sat, having finished getting ready and waiting for Ginny to come out of the bathroom. She had gotten to Ginny's apartment an hour and a half ago and now she was having second thoughts, but it was difficult to articulate what precisely was giving her pause. She had not seen many of the former DA members for eons so it would be wonderful to see them, would it not? And the club was wizard, was it not? And it would be nice to have a few drinks with friends without inhibitions, would it not? (Especially since working for the Ministry kept her ridiculously busy more days than not). But maybe some of her old school mates whom were supposed to be there were the reason why she was second guessing going at all... and by some, maybe it was only _one_ former DA member.

"Stop frowning, Hermione. You look great and we're going to have a wicked time," a voice instructed. The brunette snapped to and looked to her right. Ginny had walked briskly out of her en-suite bathroom, throwing a small pile of clothes onto her bed and looking her friend over.

"You're one to talk." Hermione replied. She thought the younger witch looked amazing herself. Ginny was wearing all white: a mid rise, form fitting skirt and a long sleeved shirt, which complimented her vibrant hair very well.

"What am I saying?"

"Nothing. Your ensemble and silhouette are doing all the talking for you."

"You sure do know how to make a girl smile, Granger." Ginny grinned.

"Hmmm," came the dry response. Hermione looked at herself in a grumpy manner one last time before getting up and moving away from the vanity.

"What's wrong?"

"What? Nothing."

"Hermione, you're an awful liar half the time. Something is obviously wrong and I'd like it if you'd tell me now before you carry this attitude out with us," the Weasley girl stated. The other woman pursed her lips as her eyes closed briefly.

"I'm not sure it's a good idea that I go." Hermione mentioned quickly.

"Why not?"

"Intuition."

"But you agreed to it." Ginny observed.

"Yes, but minds change," the brunette remarked.

"They do, but why?"

"Because! I just… you know me. This isn't something that I normally do on a Saturday night! You play Quidditch! You're social, you have teammates, you've always been a people person… this is more along your lines."

"Yes, I do know you, and you like spending time with people you care about. Whom, may I add, are the people mostly going. People you care about." Ginny attested.

"I can't see them elsewhere?" Hermione questioned, sitting on the edge of the bed and sounding a bit exasperated.

"Not all at once! It's rare and you know it! Hermione, what's really going on? _Really_? Tell me."

The Muggleborn let out a sound that was half sigh, half growl and put her head in her hands but she did not respond.

"Is it Harry?" Ginny asked quietly after a long moment.

Hermione's shoulders scrunched up involuntarily, which told her friend all she needed to know.

"I thought you two were good again," the pureblood patiently commented.

"We are. We have been for the past few months!" Hermione asserted earnestly, looking up and peering at Ginny.

"Then what is the problem?"

"I don't know… I'm nervous?"

"About what?" Ginny questioned.

"I don't know!" Hermione declared, "Sometimes I just still feel nervous when it comes to him. I don't want to do anything that is stupid or I'll come to regret... or that will set us back."

"Hermione, Harry is our friend. He's your _good_ friend, even after everything that you two have been through. What is there to be nervous or afraid about anymore? When is the last time you spent time with him?"

"Two weeks ago."

"And was it terrible? Did anything bad happen?" the red head asked.

"No." Hermione admitted, thinking about their trip to a museum followed by dinner.

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes."

"Exactly! And it will be just the same tonight, only that there will be many more people there so it's even _less_ pressure to be around him, if that's your concern. What makes tonight any different?" Ginny continued.

"I don't know…" the Muggleborn noted.

"Well you've given me a lot of 'I don't knows' and I've given you a lot of valid arguments, so I win. You're coming. Things will be fine and you'll have no issues with Harry and you'll thank me for it later."

"How do you know he's even coming for sure?"

"Ron." Ginny started, moving to look at her hair in the vanity.

"Of course." Hermione remarked, smoothing out a portion of her dress.

"Harry's actually over there getting ready. You would know if you spoke to my brother and The Boy Who Lived."

"Hey. I _do_ speak to them and they _are_ still my best friends."

"Then you should have no problem seeing them both tonight!," the red head smirked, "It's going to go well, Hermione, trust me! We can meet them up before leaving, if you'd prefer."

"No. We can meet them there, it's fine," Hermione answered, "And you're right- it'll go well. I don't know what I'm on about. Nothing will happen."

"There you go!"

The witches arrived to the London night spot half an hour later. It was busy, loud, and colorful, and they were hailed excitedly by many obsequious witches and wizards outside and inside the club. Their fame from Hogwarts had not seemed to abate very much some nine years later…. The group had a private section of the venue that was going to house everyone thanks to Ginny and Seamus, the planners and coordinators of the event. They made their way to this exclusive room right away and discovered they were some of the last ones to arrive. The room was large and perched on the second story of the building; it was surrounded by nothing but large, glass panels all around that gave views of the dance floor and DJ below. A number of plush, dark couches sat inside along with knee high tables, in addition to a manned bar that was located near the door. There were four other exact replicas of this room on the floor and theirs was right in the middle. Hermione glanced furtively into the others as she progressed to theirs, as there were no doors on any of them.

Hermione spotted people right away as she and Ginny walked inside the space and were greeted immediately. Neville, George, Angelina Johnson; Seamus, Parvati, Lee Jordan; Alicia Spinnet, Ron, Hannah Abbott; Dean, Luna, Padma Patil. And Harry. He was speaking with Ron and Luna and Hermione's eyes lingered on him longer than the others.

"Are we the last ones to arrive?" she asked as she attempted to simultaneously acknowledge as many of her old school mates as she could. (This consisted of nods, smiles, and short lived hugs).

"No, but just about. Still waiting on Ernie and Susan!" Seamus responded with a grin, pulling her into a hug.

"Are they coming together?" Ginny wondered, squeezing Alicia's hand affectionately.

"Yes. Haven't you heard? They're a couple now!" Padma supplied, welcoming Hermione.

"Good for them!"

"So there'll be 17 of us?" the Granger woman asked.

"Sure, that sounds right! Don't ask me to do any maths; I'm already a bit pissed!" Dean commented, winking at his ex-girlfriend.

"There would've been more but Katie, Terry, and Oliver couldn't make it." Ginny attested.

"Oh, we missed Oliver? How fun it would've been to have a go at him again!" Angelina remarked.

"That tosser retired from Puddlemere a year ago! Nothing but time on his hands! What kept him from coming tonight?" Lee remarked, bowing in front of the newly arrived witches.

"The fact that he knew he'd have the mickey taken?" Hermione pondered wryly, hugging Neville warmly.

"That's how we show love and he knows it."

"Oy! Sister! Granger!," a voice shouted suddenly. It belonged to George and he was peering at them with surprise and delight, "When you'd get here?!"

"Just now! Observant, aren't you?" Ginny replied, waving him over. He had been standing near Luna, Harry, and Ron but, now having noticed Ginny and Hermione, he jogged over and embraced the two women merrily.

Harry's attention had been drawn away from his best friend and the Ravenclaw blonde to George, and he attuned to whom the twin was speaking. His breath caught in his throat as he spotted the brunette. Hermione was here now. Harry found it difficult to do anything but stare at her as Ron also took notice of the new additions. How had he not noticed her entrance?

"Wicked!" Ron claimed in a happy tone, looking at his sibling and female best friend.

"The rest of my friends are here!" Luna said pleasantly. Ron peered at her and grinned. Harry, meanwhile, continued to gaze steadily at Hermione. She looked fantastic. She was dressed in a royal blue dress that fit her like a glove and her hair was piled on the top of her head in an appealing way.

"Come say hello, you lot! Don't be rude." George instructed, turning and gesturing to the trio he had just been with. Ginny and Hermione looked at Ron, Harry, and Luna, and Harry felt his heart clench when Hermione locked eyes with him.

"Hello boys, Luna." Hermione commented, smiling at them all and sounding somewhat coy.

"Salutations!" the blonde uttered.

Harry continued to stare at the Muggleborn. She smiled once more, one that seemed to be directed exclusively at him, and it jarred something within him. He took a step forward, intending to reach Hermione and say something at last, but Ron beat him to it.

"Move, Potter!" the red head ordered, rushing past Harry.

Ron reached his sister and Hermione in a few, long strides with Luna right on his heels. He kissed Ginny on her forehead before pulling the brunette into an all encompassing hug that lifted her from her feet. Hermione squealed in surprise and mirth as Ron twirled her around.

"All right, Hermione?" he asked.

"Yes, Ron. Thank you," she noted as he put her down. She kissed his cheek while wearing a content smile.

"Hermione." Luna stated simply, stepping up next and giving her a hug, which was returned.

"Luna."

"Well get over here, Harry!" Ron called, peering at his best friend. The Potter man started, having been shocked and a tad disgruntled by Ron beating him to the punch. He looked quickly at the Weasleys before his gaze came to rest on Hermione yet again. She was watching him curiously.

"Sorry." Harry offered, walking over to everyone else.

"Nice to see you dressed up, Auror Potter." Ginny grinned as he approached the group. They gave each other a cozy hug.

"This counts as dressed up?"

"Based on your normal state of dress, which is a T-shirt and jeans- yes."

There was laughter as he rolled his eyes and Hermione appraised his appearance. Harry was wearing black slacks and a black, collared, button down shirt with white stitching and details. He looked great. Black seemed to be his color.

"Hermione," he uttered, turning to her.

"Harry," she answered genially. They stared at one another, taking the other person in. There was brief silence but it was loaded, if their looks were anything to go by. However, it ended when he pulled her into a heartfelt hug that had been quite different from the one he had shared with Ginny.

She closed her eyes as she molded into his embrace.

"Glad to see you again." Harry murmured.

"Yes."

She noticed he was slowly stroking her left arm and she inhaled at the pleasantness of it, but in the next moment someone was clearing their throat loudly. They broke apart feeling a bit startled and saw Ron looking at them, wearing a smirk.

"Fancy a drink?" he questioned smugly.

"Oh! Er, yes!," Hermione said, breaking away from her dark haired friend and striving not to blush, "That'd be great."

"Still partial to rum?"

"Yes, that's fine."

"Right," Ron nodded, "Ginny? A drink?"

"Yes. I'll go with you," the witch claimed.

"As will I! Lee and I need another." George relayed.

"Luna, do you want anything?" Ron asked.

"No. I'm fine, Ronald, thank you," the blonde responded with a smile smile. He acknowledged this by squeezing her hand affectionately and then walked away to the room's bar with his siblings.

"Be right back!" Ginny called.

"So how are things, Luna?" Hermione pondered when it was only her, Luna, and Harry.

"Well, since the last time you saw me three weeks ago, I discovered a new fauna of beewittles!" the Ravenclaw revealed, looking pleased.

"Oh?"

"Yes, in Croatia! I was gone for six days and stumbled upon them on my second to last day. I need to return for further study in two weeks time, but I wanted to come home to England and spend time with Ron before leaving again."

"That's great, Luna." Hermione attested sincerely.

Luna's work as a Magizoologist seemed to truly fulfill her. She had started in the field right after graduating Hogwarts but her work had not garnered recognition and accolades until nearly two years ago, when she had been 23. Coincidentally, this was also the age she had married Ron in a large, joyous, and unusual ceremony.

Luna and Ron had begun dating when she was 20 and he was 21, and the two had wed three years later, which their families and friends had been gleeful about. It had been rather surprising when the pair had started dating but not entirely. Luna had always had nothing but positive things to say about Ron, even when at Hogwarts, and somewhere along the line this had transformed into romantic feelings.

She had been out with the golden trio, Neville, and Ginny one night when, somehow, the conversation had landed upon her love life and if she was interested in or seeing anyone. Looking and sounding utterly unabashed, as though mentioning the weather, Luna had declared she currently fancied Ron and had for quite some time. The table had gone deathly quiet at her admission while Ron's eyes widened and his ears burned a stark red; her response had been to merely smile. The rest of the night was fairly awkward and Ron avoided her for the five days following that, but somewhere along the line he had met with her and had a thorough conversation because, one month after her declaration, the two had commenced dating.

Harry and Ginny had been the best man and maid of honor at their wedding while Hermione and Neville had been a bridesmaid and groomsman, and the four of them had felt nothing but happiness for Luna and Ron as they stood beside them. It had been particularly interesting for Hermione because, once upon a time, she had thought _she_ might have been standing next to the tall red head at the altar one day. (Consequently, there was no jealousy on her part- simply reflection).

Ron and Hermione had been over for two years by the time he and Luna had started seeing each other. Their relationship had started a few months after the Battle of Hogwarts and lasted just under a year; the best friends broke up the summer before Hermione turned 20. Their often conflictual way of communicating was nerve wracking on its own as friends, but in a romantic relationship it had been unbearable. They could not see eye to eye on many issues and their disagreements had the tendency to turn into fights too quickly. This clashing had been their undoing but it had not ended sourly. Ron and Hermione mutually decided to end their romance and actually seemed relieved when it was over. They fell right back into being just friends once more, acknowledging that they were able to bring out the worst in one another when dating.

This is why Hermione had truly been glad when the blonde started seeing Ron. Luna was great for her best friend and their love for each other was clear when they were together. He was a wonderful man and he deserved a woman whom would celebrate him while also keeping him grounded, which Luna did. Ron's only squabble was that his mother would occasionally mention children when he was around her, sometimes subtly and sometimes outright. She wanted her son to have his own brood but he was not interested at the moment. His wife's career would make it quite difficult to incorporate children in their lives and the pair had only been married for a couple years.

"She has grandchildren already. Why is it my job to add to her collection right now?," Ron would complain, "We have plenty of time! I'm not even 30! We're not worried about it."

"And how is work for you, Hermione?" Luna questioned, picking something off Harry's left sleeve that he was not completely sure was even there. (Luna was still Luna, after all).

"It's, it's good! Busy as always, but I do enjoy it as it's challenging," the brunette replied.

"I expect you see a lot of Harry."

Hermione looked to him and he grinned. They did both work for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Yes," she assured, smiling a bit.

"She's actually set to be promoted at the end of next week." Harry revealed proudly. The Muggleborn appeared a little chagrined and it only made his grin larger.

"Are you? How perfect!" Luna exclaimed.

"Yes. I haven't told too many people about it yet but I _am_ happy." Hermione stated, smiling in a resigned way at the wizard.

"You should be. You've worked your arse off for it." Harry informed.

"Indeed! This night is like a celebration of sorts, then," the blonde observed, looking between them happily.

"What's a celebration?" Neville inquired. He walked up to the three with a butterbeer in his hand and his fiance by his side.

"Hermione's promotion."

"Promotion?! Congratulations, Hermione!" Hannah relayed, clapping her hands together.

"Oh yes! Harry told me!," Neville relayed, "That's terrific, love!" He gave her a one armed hug and her mouth fell open while her brows furrowed, and she peered at Harry disbelievingly. He looked away sheepishly although his grin remained.

"Did he now?" the Muggleborn pondered, her shrewd gaze not wavering, "Anyone else who knows?"

"Just Ron!... and Bill." Harry admitted. She made a noise of exasperation.

"It's not a bad thing," laughed Neville while the other women smiled.

"No! It's not. I am happy about the promotion, but I don't want tonight to be about me or that. I just want to catch up with everyone and have fun." Hermione explained.

"Of course!"

"Drinks are over here!" a voice then called. The group looked to see George waving them down right by the couches while Ginny was taking a seat and Ron was placing glasses of alcohol on one of the tables.

"Shall we?" Neville prompted, gesturing with his hand to the Weasleys.

"Excuse me for being proud of you." Harry mumbled to Hermione as they headed for the sofas and tables. They brought up the rear and she peered at him with surprise but he was smiling down at her.

"Oh, no, Harry- it's lovely that you are! Thank you," she mentioned, touching his shoulder lightly, "I'm not actually upset."

"You just make it easy to be."

"Be what?"

"Proud of you," he remarked. The witch felt surprise again as she looked at him, but soon after it was followed by some emotion that was beginning to make her cheeks hot so she looked away.

Ron handed out the drinks when the five of them arrived and began to settle on and around the sofas.

"Harry, got you another whiskey," his best friend relayed.

"Thanks, mate," the dark haired wizard cited as he took his glass and Ron gave Hermione her rum based drink. She sat down next to Ginny and Luna, on Ginny's right, and took a sip of the liquid. Harry glanced at where his friends were sitting or standing and took note that Ron continued to stand with George and Neville before resting his eyes on the witches.

"May I?" he posited, pointing to the spot on Hermione's right.

"Of course!," she declared, moving a bit as he sat down, "You don't have to ask. It's not like I'm opposed to you."

"Not anymore, at least."

He had meant this is a joke and it had come out impulsively but his statement resonated with them both a little too much. Hermione felt definite discomfort at his words so she took another sip as a distraction while he cleared his throat awkwardly and set down his drink. It was quiet between them for a long moment while their peers spoke jovially and the music from the DJ reverberated around them.

"So, when did you get here?" she asked, turning to peer at him.

"About 20 minutes before you and Ginny. Seamus and Dean were the very first ones here." Harry informed.

"Have you been here before?"

"Once. It was the starting point for Ron's bachelor party."

"Mmmm," she uttered, smiling.

"How about you?" he questioned.

"What do you think, Harry?"

He chuckled at this, rubbing his chin.

"I think it probably took a bit, or maybe loads, of convincing on Ginny's part to get you here in the first place, so, no- you probably haven't been here before," came the reply.

"With deduction skills like that, no wonder you're a brilliant Auror." Hermione claimed, her eyes shining with laughter. He smiled in return.

"Well, it's good you're here. It wouldn't have been the same without you."

She did not respond with words but peered at him with a pleased expression. He did not look away and she picked up her glass to take another long sip when she felt her cheeks growing hot once more.

"Erm, what did you do with your day?" Hermione questioned when she had finished fiddling with her drink.

"I spent the day with Teddy." Harry shared, appearing happy.

"Oh, did you? What did you do? How is he?" The witch looked and sounded eager, turning to face him fully.

Hermione treasured the young Lupin boy. She had not seen him in weeks and she felt guilty about that but work had been ruthless lately. What was more, her place in Teddy's world had shifted in a noticeable way one year prior, because her place in Harry's world had also shifted…. But that was over now and things were better, and she could- and would- make more of an effort to be regularly included in the boy's life once again.

"He's great. The absolute best," grinned Harry, "I took him to Muggle London for the zoo but we also ate, shopped, went to the park. He has so much energy! Andromeda and I both had to have a talk with him about not transforming while out among Muggles because he does it constantly elsewhere, and I know a part of it is because it antagonizes his grandmother."

"So what did he look like today?" Hermione wondered, smiling.

"He's recently gotten the habit of looking exactly like whomever he is spending time with- again, I think, to irk people- so I spent the day with a miniature version of myself. It was a bit unsettling."

The brunette laughed heartily as she pictured it, Teddy's enthusiastic reaction and Harry's weary one.

"He did the same thing the last time he was with Ron. Ron enjoyed the hell out of it, you know." Harry continued.

"He would, the self centered prat." Hermione joked.

"It's crazy to know that Teddy's eight. Eight! He's going to start Hogwarts before I know it. I can hardly believe it most of the time; I have all of these feelings about it."

"That makes sense. You're an amazing father figure to him, Harry- of course you're going to feel deeply about it."

"Thanks," he nodded, watching his untouched glass of alcohol. He was leaned over and had started to rub his hands together slowly.

"I miss him _and_ Andromeda. I must see him soon. Will you… will you let me know the next time you visit him? I'd love to go." Hermione pondered. She sounded rather timid and appeared unsure. Harry stared at her and took a moment before replying.

"Yeah... of course. Of course I will. I know he'd be thrilled to see you. They both would," the wizard attested.

"Thank you. It would mean so much."

"Andromeda asks after you all the time... Well, y-you and Ron! She, uh, she asks after you both."

The witch peered at him but he was not looking at her anymore and appeared sheepish. She was successful in subduing a tiny smirk.

"Are you going to drink your whiskey at all?" she pondered, gesturing to it. Harry's gaze shot to it before finding her eyes again, which were a tad mirthful.

"In time. We've got all night," he noted.

"Bottoms up, you lot! A shot for everyone in this room! No exceptions!" a boisterous Seamus suddenly shouted. This earned him loud, verbal support from a handful of the occupants, including Dean and Ron. Harry gawked at his old roommates before looking at Hermione once more, but she was holding out his drink for him with a satisfied expression on her face.

"Drink up. There are apparently expectations for the night!" she asserted.

* * *

An hour later, everyone was present (Ernie and Susan had arrived not long after Seamus' round of shots) and seemed to be very immersed in the atmosphere of the club. The level of inebriation varied quite a bit amongst the Hogwarts alumni but no one was obnoxious, unmanageable, or sloppy. Luna and Padma, for example, had had nothing beyond the mandatory shot and butterbeers, whereas Lee and Seamus couldn't have passed a sobriety test if their lives depended on it. Currently, Harry was standing close to the bar, nursing his third whiskey of the night and watching his friends interact with one another. He had finished regaling with Ron and Dean about memorable events not too long ago and now appeared content with observing.

"See something you like?" a voice asked to his left. He was pulled rapidly out of his daze and attuned to the person. Ginny had sidled up next to him and looked amused.

"Do you see something I don't?" Harry answered.

"You're staring."

"I'm people watching."

"Yes. But is it people watching or _person_ watching?" she posited slyly. He looked at her sharply and her smile grew.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Ginevra," the wizard asserted evenly. Ginny made some kind of noise in her throat.

"Okay."

She looked ahead exactly where he had been gazing and a group that consisted of Angelina, Alicia, Parvati, and Hermione fell right into her line of vision. There was silence while she continued to look knowingly entertained and Harry studied her from his peripheral, as though sizing her up.

"You look quite good tonight," he muttered. The red head turned to peer at him and grinned.

"Why thank you, Harrison! Is that a play for something more?" the witch inquired in a sultry tone. She looped her arm through his and moved closer in a theatrically seductive manner; he rolled his eyes and smiled at her chosen name. At 18, Ginny had joked that they should get everyone to believe that Harry's real name was Harrison and, seven years later, she would still refer to him as such.

"Do you want it to be?" Harry quipped with a smirk.

"Mmm… possibly. But you'll have to get in queue behind the hundreds of others who want me, I'm sorry!"

"Can't I just cut? I've already been in the queue- at the head of it, actually- and I think that should count for something."

They smiled at each other, both glad that bantering together was still a part of their relationship.

"How _is_ that going for you? Dating?" he asked. Ginny took a moment before responding as she thought about it, her arm still through his.

"Well, Quidditch can cut into it, as you know-" she commenced.

"All too well."

"But! I did actually meet someone a few weeks ago. Maybe?"

"What do you mean maybe? This person maybe exists?" grinned Harry.

"I mean _maybe_ something might come of this! I met him while in Spain with the Harpies. Italian bloke, though- wizard. He seems brilliant so far and it's kind of nice because he's rather busy himself so he understands. But it is still fairly new and I don't want to jinx it or get too hopeful just now. But I do like him." Ginny relayed, looking slightly bashful. He gave her a sincere smile.

"Have you told anyone about him?"

"Just Luna. And Hermione, whom I told earlier tonight."

"Well good for you, Gin. I hope this 'maybe' turns into a yes; you'd deserve it," he cited.

"Thank you, Harry," she kindly responded.

Across the room, Parvati, Angelina, Hermione, and Alicia were looking at Ginny and Harry and conversing.

"And so many people thought they would've ended up married." Parvati remarked, shaking her head unconsciously.

"Thought and hoped." Hermione added, stirring her drink's straw in an absent minded manner as she, too, watched the pair.

"Well, yeah! Who could blame them? Look at how good they look together!" Alicia exclaimed. Three sets of eyes quickly shot to her face, each telling of a different emotion. Angelina grimaced and discreetly hit Alicia's lower arm, peering rapidly at Hermione while she conveniently coughed. Parvati looked at Angelina astutely.

"Oh! B-But! But, obviously, l-looking good isn't enough to keep a relationship going! No! It's, it's about being good- together!" Alicia rushed to clarify. She laughed nervously once, glanced at Hermione, and then took an extended swallow from her glass.

"Yes. Looking good and being good are two very different things!" Angelina supplied.

"Yeah. They are," the Granger woman noted simply.

She could not be upset with Alicia's statement because droves of people had similar thought patterns. A large portion of people had wished Harry and Ginny would make it all the way when the two had dated, and while that had been more than half a decade ago, some had yet to let it go.

Harry resumed his romance with Ginny when he was 18 ½, about half a year after defeating Voldemort. The two had had a longer run than Ron and Hermione and remained a couple for a year and a half, but they ultimately broke up when he was 20. Conversely, the relationship between the Chosen One and the red headed witch had not ended as easily or as amicably as their best friends; it was rather tough for them for a few months following the breakup. Harry had been the one to go to Ginny and reveal he did not think it was working out. He had still been significantly affected, psychologically, by the war, then, and he believed that she was not giving him what he needed, while he was giving her what she did not deserve. She did not fully understand his erratic emotional state and he was too closed off too often.

Ginny had been resistant to end their relationship although she knew it had not been smooth sailing, and she argued and tried to convince him to regene his decision for two weeks after he called it off. When she finally accepted it after half a month, after 14 days of an emotional whirlwind, she left him alone to tend to her woeful heart. However, two weeks after that and one month following the breakup, Harry had appeared at the Burrow one night and informed Ginny that he wanted to it all back and be a couple once more. He had felt alone and distraught during that fortnight and thought it was the universe telling him he _did_ need her in that way, so when she was the one to deny him this time, he felt utterly lost.

In retrospect, Harry realized that Ginny turning him away was probably the best thing that could have happened for both of them. They had both been gravely impacted by the war and had floundered as a pair in understanding and addressing it, together and individually. After three months of some healing and reflection, the two were able to reunite and be around one another again. They acknowledged that they had not ultimately worked out and that was okay, but they cared for each other too much to abandon their friendship as well. Their relationship also led Harry to recognize that he needed professional help in addressing his mental scars. It took him another year until he was able to bring himself to do it but, at 21, he did, and once he started it he never came to regret it in any way.

"Well they both look good with whomever they're with so of course they're going to look good together by default!," Parvati remarked airily, "I never did think Ginny and Harry were destined to be."

"What? Really? But you're the one who brought up this topic in the first place!" Angelina pointed out.

"Yes. I said loads of people thought they'd marry and grow old together- I never said I was one of them."

Hermione looked at her old roommate and partially smiled, twirling her straw once more.

"And what about you, Harrison?" Ginny inquired back on the opposite side of the room.

"What about me?" Harry responded.

"Don't play daft! What's dating like for you right now?"

"Mmm, rather non-existent."

"When's the last time you went on a date? Or better yet- when's the last time you were interested in a witch?" the red head posited.

"So long ago that it might be embarrassing to say, for your first question, and even longer than that, for your second," he explained. She appeared shocked.

"Why?! Harry, you do realize how appealing you are to women, don't you? You're not _that_ blind?"

"It's hard not to see it when women blatantly make advances toward me or throw themselves at me. But that's the problem, Ginny- I feel like they do it just because of who I am in the wizarding world. I want a woman who is interested in me for who I am as a person, not what my name is. And sometimes it's hard to tell the difference."

She nodded her head while she also frowned, not because of what he said but because of the truth behind it.

"So what about someone who is _not_ British?" Ginny proposed.

"When will I find the time to travel just so I can hunt down a potential mate?" Harry replied.

"Then what about a witch you know already? And know well? You can already be sure she likes you for you."

"I don't know about that…"

"And why not?" she challenged. He peered at her before his gaze flickered back to the group of the four Gryffindor alumnae.

"I've done that- twice now. I believe you were there for one of those instances! Neither time worked out," the Auror muttered. He glanced one more time at Parvati, Alicia, Hermione, and Angelina before taking a deep gulp from his glass while his ex-girlfriend followed his gaze. There was momentary silence.

"Well, if at first you don't succeed, try again." Ginny advised. She threw a small smirk his way, pat his arm, and then took her leave.

Once midnight had come and gone, the noise level of the room had risen a bit and the inhibitions of the witches and wizards present were notably more diminished. A good amount of them had started dancing and/or began to go explore different parts of the club. George and Dean left to go down to the lower level where most of the partygoers were clustered and when they returned some 20 minutes later, they were accompanied by two witches who looked pleased. (Susan grumbled that they did not need more women as they had outnumbered the men even before the new arrivals joined them). Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been cheerfully conversing with only each other near one of the windows, all intoxicated to some degree and with Harry's arm thrown around Hermione's shoulders.

However, when the two witches merged with them to introduce themselves after a few minutes, they all felt a bit perturbed to have their enjoyable time as a trio interrupted. Consequently, when it became fairly apparent after a quarter of an hour that one of the witches had her eye on Harry, and steadily sought him ought wherever he was in the room, Hermione found that she became increasingly aggravated. She wanted to tell Dean and George to supervise their guests or ask them to leave but she imagined how they might react to her and begrudgingly left it alone. So, when the brunette was with Susan and Luna and overheard Parvati tell her twin that she was going to "save Harry", she looked on with gratitude as the Patil woman marched over to Harry and his persistent admirer.

"You don't mind if I take him for a bit, do you?" Parvati asked the woman in a cheery voice, grabbing his hand and flashing a smile. He looked at her quickly.

"Oh! Er-" the witch commenced, appearing surprised.

"Thanks!"

Parvati then hastily pulled Harry away in order to put a decent amount of distance between him and the other woman. He followed without complaint.

"Merlin! _Thank_ you, Parvati!" Harry exclaimed, exhaling audibly.

"You're welcome, Potter. I could see the panic in your eyes and the determination in hers," she remarked.

"I can track down and arrest dangerous criminals but I don't know how to handle a woman who's giving me a little too much attention."

"Noble Harry, as always!"

The wizard shook his head and shrugged, smiling in a defeated manner.

"How's the night for you?" Harry wondered.

"It's fun! I'm glad we're all doing this!" Parvati revealed.

"Yeah. It's nice, isn't it?"

"Mmm! It could be a little nicer, though."

"How?" he prompted.

"By you dancing with me," she attested. He gazed at her, an uncertain grin on his face.

"Dance?"

"Yes! That _is_ what you do in a place like this! Don't tell me you're still horribly opposed to dancing."

"Still?" Harry repeated.

"Yes, Harry. Your attitude was the _worst_ about dancing at the Yule Ball," Parvati stated. He gave an amused, robust laugh, "So, I figure that you still owe me for being a less than satisfying dance partner 12 years ago."

"The Yule Ball. That's how you see it, eh? All right, then- I owe you! Let's dance."

She smiled widely at him and took his hand again before moving a bit more to the right in order to bypass Seamus and Neville so they could have more space. When Parvati turned to face Harry, she put her arms around his neck and moved closer while his hands went to her waist. Hermione had engaged with Luna and Susan again when she saw the Patil woman swoop in to rescue Harry, so when she scanned the room to see where he was now, she saw that he continued to be with Parvati. But they were dancing. Dancing lively. And dancing closely. Hermione felt her mouth open, her heart stop, and her thoughts freeze.

"Oh, Harry's dancing!," Luna mentioned, "I've only seen him do that at our wedding! And, well, that's because he kind of had to." Susan giggled at this but Hermione only continued to watch the dancing couple, eyebrows taut and drawn.

They finished the first song but did not part, and in fact remained together to dance to another. They looked jovial and would trade occasional, short sentences in between moving with one another. Hermione persisted in watching them, her once alarmed countenance now replaced with one of deep irritation. At one point Parvati tightened her hold around his neck and stood on her toe tips to say something directly into Harry's ear, grinning. His own hold around her middle tightened as he listened and, when she was done, he relayed something in her ear that caused her to laugh gleefully and pull back to grin further at him. That was also when Hermione noticed she was gritting her teeth and was curling and uncurling the fingers of her right hand, only because Susan said something.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" the former Hufflepuff questioned, noticing the Muggleborn's tense state. Luna peered at her as well.

"Um, I… I'm fine!," she claimed, looking at them and then glancing at her hand in surprise, "I just need to, erm, go!, for a bit! Er, excuse me."

Hermione power walked away from them with her hand covering the right side of her face, letting out a fretful puff of air as her thoughts restarted with ferocity. She made her way to the sofas and was relieved to see Ginny there, holding a drink. She sat down stiffly and her gaze seemed to involuntarily land on Harry, which made her frown in vexation and temporarily shut her eyes.

"All right, Granger?" the red head pondered in a merry voice, peering at her friend. Hermione grumbled in discontent and opened her eyes, steadfastly determined to not look at Parvati and Harry once again.

Ginny raised an eyebrow at the noise her friend made that resembled a minor growl.

"Should I take that as a no?" she inquired.

"I'm fine," the brunette countered in an impatient tone.

"Are you? You don't sound, or even look, fine! Do you need a drink?"

"Yes!" the older woman asserted, turning to look at her properly. Hermione knew her frown was heavy and set but it was so hard to wipe off her face.

"Lucky for you Lee left this here before he could remember to take it. Got distracted by something or other." Ginny explained, picking up a shot glass from the table and offering it. Hermione grabbed it without a second thought and swallowed it in one go, grimacing a bit as her tastebuds recognized the clear liquid as vodka.

"So, will you be honest now and tell me what's got your face twisted up like that?" the Weasley woman continued.

However, before the other witch could answer, Parvati was bouncing up to the sofa on which Hermione and Ginny sat with a large smile on her face and her sister by her side. Hermione felt herself tense once more as she watched Parvati greet them with a wave and plop herself down right between them. Padma sat on Ginny's left.

"Having a good time, girls?" Parvati questioned.

"Very much." Ginny affirmed.

"Are any of these glasses filled with water and _not_ alcohol?" Padma wondered.

"Yes! I'm parched!" her twin supplemented.

"I'm sure you are, what with your _enthusiastic_ dancing with Harry." Hermione mumbled as the red head pointed out the water to the Patil women. Parvati heard her and the smile returned to her face.

"You saw us?" she pondered.

"I was close by. It was hard not to see."

"Harry's a much better dancer now than he was at 14!" Parvati observed, laughing once.

"You waited all this time just to test the waters again, huh?" Hermione replied, her sarcasm not very subtle. Ginny was looking between the pair astutely as Padma studied the Granger woman.

"It was a consequence of snatching him from the claws of aggressive seduction."

"I'm sure he is forever in your debt now."

There was brief silence as Parvati also appraised her old roommate, some of the humor slipping from her face.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" she asked.

"Yes! Will people stop asking me that?!" came the retort.

"When you don't seem so testy, I'm sure they will." Padma smirked. Hermione glared at her.

"You seemed fine the last time I saw you and that wasn't even long ago!" Parvati added.

"And I'm fine now!," Hermione insisted, although it sounded like she was snapping, "Don't you have someone else you need to go dance with? Someone else to save with your prolific moves?"

There was more silence and it was longer as the other three gazed at the brunette, although Ginny and Padma also shared looks with one another. Parvati, on the other hand was only staring shrewdly at Hermione.

"At some point. But I'm still recovering from Harry right now," she claimed in an even voice, a phantom smirk hovering around her countenance.

Hermione clenched her teeth, folded her arms, and turned rapidly away from the dark haired witch. She was clearly aggravated and did not feel like consorting with the other woman. She did not know what else would spill from her mouth but knew it would not be pleasant.

"Hermione… are you _upset_ that I danced with Harry?" Parvati carefully inquired. The witch in question felt her shoulders tense but remained faced away with folded arms. No! She was not upset over that- of course not! But, now that it _had_ been mentioned, it did make Parvati seem akin to a traitor of sorts, or at least a hypocrite of some kind. Hermione could not precisely voice why but that was of little consequence.

No answer was received and Padma and Ginny also had smirks playing about their features, particularly the red head.

"Hermione, I've danced with a few people tonight. Harry was just one of them! That's what you do at places like this- you dance!" The explanation came with a disbelieving laugh.

The Muggleborn persisted in saying nothing and scowling, her arms still crossed.

"So you're going to ignore me now, whereas before you were being snippy?" Parvati commented. Still, silence, "Well, I don't think it's a coincidence you suddenly seem pissy and don't want to speak to me _after_ you saw me dancing with Harry. Which, of course, would only bother you if you felt jealous in any way."

Hermione felt herself bristle at the word pissy. She clenched her forearms and used an incredible amount of willpower to not turn back to face Parvati and say something scathing. Jealous? _Jealous_! How dare she!

"Hermione-" Ginny began, sounding both amused and reprimanding. But Parvati shook her head and held out her hand at the red head, indicating she had it covered.

"Look, I won't deny that I enjoyed dancing with Harry, _or_ that I find him attractive. I have since third year," Parvati explained. The brunette's eyes widened and an angry flush swept through her body, "But I understand that we are friends! Just because I think he's fit doesn't mean I'm trying to make him my husband. I danced with my _friend_ \- nothing more and nothing less. If you saw more to it, Hermione, if it's bothering you this much, then maybe you should question if you're denying the fact that _you_ still have feelings for Harry."

At this, Hermione did turn around, and fast. Her arms uncrossed and she peered at Parvati, dumbfounded, but the other woman was standing up and gesturing for her sister. The Patil twins bid Ginny a temporary goodbye and then left the sofa to merge back into the crowd of Hogwarts alumni.

Hermione's gaze then fell on Ginny, who looked surprised herself.

"Well…" Ginny initiated, shrugging her shoulders with her palms up, "She could have a point?" Anger shot across Hermione's face again and she hastily stood up from her seat, fists balled.

"Where are you going?" the Weasley woman asked.

"Downstairs!" the brunette snapped.

"For what?"

"A drink!"

"We have a bar in here." Ginny pointed out.

"I don't want one from here!" Hermione declared hotly. She then stalked past her friend, intent on getting to the exit, and the red head scrambled to get up as well.

"Wait, I'm coming with you!"

The pair made their way out of the room without saying anything to anyone but their departure was noticed by someone. Harry, who stood next to all of his former Quidditch teammates, furrowed his brow as he watched Hermione and Ginny leave, momentarily distracted from his conversation with Angelina.

* * *

A/N: The meat of this story is, clearly, in the second part so stay tuned! It should be out in about 2 weeks and I promise to [try to] make it worth it.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Other Night**

Harry and Hermione started dating right after his 22nd birthday. He had been broken up from Ginny for two years and Hermione had been broken up from Ron for nearly three years when the best friends started their own romantic relationship. The most interesting part of it all was that it had been wholly unintentional, as neither had explicitly expressed a romantic interest in the other before then.

Harry's friends had thrown him a rousing birthday party at Grimmauld Place for his 22nd that had been spearheaded by Ron and Hermione. It had been vivacious, raucous fun for everyone and Harry had gotten decidedly drunk, something that had mostly been his old dorm mates' doing. Hermione, who had been intoxicated herself but not to the degree of the birthday boy, had cut him off and scolded Ron for his youthful shenanigans. (The red head, consequently, had waved her off).

She went into mother mode and took over responsibility for Harry's well being, a habit that had been present within her since age 12. He had gone with it and wore a goofy grin on his face while he laughed over nothing and everything. At one point, Hermione led him by the hand into the kitchen to get him water and something small to eat, pushing him into a chair at the table. When she had gotten the glass of water and turned around, Harry was standing up with one eye closed and his wand aimed at the pantry, noting he would help with the food. Realizing the disaster that could happen from drunken magic, the witch rushed him in an attempt to grab his wand.

It caught him off guard and both the glass and his wand were dropped in the ensuing scuffle. When things had settled from the brief altercation, Harry was leaning against the table and holding Hermione around her middle while she had one hand braced against his chest and the other held his wrist. Both their hearts were beating frantically, they were staring at one another, and broken glass lay at their feet.

It was unclear who moved first after those long, frozen moments, but when they did, their lips collided in a heady manner.

It could have very well been the alcohol that prompted their make out session and Hermione said as much. She pulled away from Harry after a couple minutes with a gasp, her arms dropping from around his neck when she felt his hands slip beneath her top and caress the skin of her stomach. When she backed away from him, shocked and nervously wringing her hands, she mentioned that they had been drinking- him especially. He stared at her briefly before replying:

"Yes. But that doesn't mean snogging you was a mistake. Or that I'll forget it tomorrow."

His tone of voice had been grave and sure, as if he had sobered up for just that instance. She stared at him in return with an astounded expression before Kreacher marched into the kitchen immediately following this, grumbling about the guests. The elf yelped when he saw the glass shards on the floor and started to magically clear them away while he admonished Hermione and his master for making a mess, sounding caring in his own, cantankerous way. The brunette used Kreacher's appearance as her way out and fled from the room, a strangled "excuse me" coming from her mouth as she did not look back. Harry initially felt urged to follow her but slumped down into a chair instead, sighing while his mind raced with thoughts of kissing Hermione Granger and questions of why he had drank so much.

He did not see her for the remainder of the night and did not attempt to seek her out.

The best friends spoke about their unexpected kitchen snog the following day. Ron and Hermione had spent Harry's birthday night at Grimmauld Place, and the first thing that Harry was cognizant of upon waking at 12PM in his designated bedroom (i.e., Sirius' old room) was that he was still dressed in his clothes from his party, minus his shoes. The second thing he realized was that he had kissed Hermione hours previously… or she had kissed him…. He was not sure, but they had kissed each other and they absolutely had to discuss it. Nervous that she may have already left at an earlier time because she regretted what they had done, Harry rushed to the room she usually occupied when staying at the old Black home. He quickly peeked in on Ron and saw the shirtless wizard sound asleep with his mouth open and a leg sticking out from the bedding.

Hermione was indeed still at Grimmauld and opened the bedroom door to see a bemused, disheveled looking Harry on the other side. She had been up for an hour already and was properly dressed and groomed; she had spent the entire time dissecting and fretting over kissing her dark haired friend and what would happen now. He was markedly glad she had not left and both of them blushed somewhat as they traded awkward hellos. Harry asked if she would go to the park with him to talk, the subject of which he did not have to clarify, and Hermione agreed, feeling instant anxiety that she pretended was not there. After he had showered, changed clothes, and taken a potion supplied by his elf to take care of his hangover, Harry led Hermione out the house with instructions for Kreacher to inform Ron of where they had gone if the red head woke during their absence.

The pair went to a nearby park and spoke for over two hours. It was difficult to begin dialogue about what had happened between them the night before but, once they accomplished it, the words poured forth freely and willingly, as they often did when Hermione and Harry spoke. Both admitted to not planning the make out session but also enjoying it, immensely, which brought forth questions of if it would happen again, if they _wanted_ it to happen again, and if romance or sexual attraction was at all a part of their feelings for each other. Certain things were revealed and disclosed to one another during those two hours, things that had not yet been shared with anyone or things they had not even fully admitted to themselves. And the crux of it all was that, yes- at some point in knowing each other, both had wondered (and partially wanted) if something more would ever happen between them.

At the end of their conversation, having covered many related topics to Harry, Hermione, and _something more_ , they both felt relieved, excited, nervous, and hopeful. The pair decided to try dating, as they saw it as a natural progression of their relationship considering how close they were; it also allowed for them to abandon it yet maintain their bond if dating did not work out or feel right. Feeling slightly giddy, they went back to Grimmauld close to 3:30PM and encountered a conscious Ron. They did not tell him what they had just discussed although they knew they would and knew they had to, but not yet. It was so fresh and new and _theirs_ , and they wanted to keep it that for a little while.

Hermione and Harry told Ron they were dating about 10 days into their "trial period." After three weeks of dating, it had obviously gone exceptionally well because they found themselves in an exclusive relationship. Their friends were exhilarated for them when they found out. Nobody, not even the couple themselves, thought it was rushed or odd or forced that they were a couple almost a month after they had started dating, merely for the fact that everyone knew just how close the witch and wizard were. Their connection was deep and indisputable, and while romance may seemed to have happened quickly for them, it had apparently always simmered under the surface; given the right circumstances and the right time, it had been primed to flourish- they had already had everything else.

Ginny had been clearly happy for Harry and Hermione. Above anyone else, the new couple had been worried what the two youngest Weasleys would think, but Ginny gave them her full support. She and the brunette had had a very honest conversation about it one night and the younger witch had informed Hermione that she may have been Harry's ex but Hermione was perfect for him. Ginny claimed that Hermione was able to give him what she herself had been unable to provide. She noted Hermione had been giving Harry the understanding he had needed since she first met him all those many years ago, and no one else on Earth would be better suited. Of course, the red head had also attested, while displaying a devilish smirk, that the women would now be able to have lurid talks about Harry's prowess in bed.

Ron, on the other hand, had a more difficult time accepting his best friends being together than his sister had. He was not truly jealous (as he had Luna and was quite happy and satisfied) but more so uncomfortable, and he was not certain how to feel about it. These were his two best friends in the world, one of whom was also his ex, so it only made the matter all the more complicated. Inevitably, it called to and poked at old insecurities of Ron's as well, and the darkness of the horcrux hunt lingered around the perimeter of his mind when he thought of Hermione's and Harry's status as a couple. He did not avoid them and things were not awkward for the trio, per se, but their dynamic was off. It was as though they were eating at a table where one of the legs was just slightly shorter than the others.

Harry wanted validation from Ron about the relationship but did not directly ask for or discuss it with the red head, whereas Ron had maintained he was fine with it when the subject was brought up by Hermione. Consequently, it took a month for Ron to come to terms with, accept, and support his friends' relationship, and Luna played a large role in that. The blonde's knack for abrupt insight and truthfulness coaxed her boyfriend into getting to the root of his discomfort, which really centered around his deep seeded fear of his inadequacy as a person and his shame over leaving Hermione and Harry during the hunt. Ron's subconscious and old beliefs viewed his friends' relationship as evidence that he was not needed, which, rationally, was anything but true. Discussing this with Luna and eventually his best friends caused him to feel as though an unrecognized weight had been lifted from his chest; old thoughts about himself and his worth were laid to rest and fully allowed him to be Harry's and Hermione's biggest cheerleader. And he was- for three years: the amount of time they remained together.

The three years went by quickly for Hermione and Harry and the time was enjoyable, fulfilling, and loving, overall. While every couple has disagreements and points of contention at various times in their relationship, and they were no exception, the pair functioned exceptionally well together romantically. They were able to say they were literally dating their best friend; their strong foundation is likely what made the relationship so affable.

After their one year anniversary and right before her 24th birthday, Hermione moved in with Harry to his apartment in a borough of outer London. (He had moved out of Grimmauld Place a couple years prior yet still frequented and used it often enough to keep the home and Kreacher from being forgotten). Going to work together many days, working in the same department, and coming home to each other did not get repetitive or annoying to them. They enjoyed it, actually, because it allowed them to actually see one another and spend time together as their schedules were often so different.

Their relationship seemed to thrive for so long… so it was rather shocking when it ended. And ended badly.

Harry was still unable to cite what precisely caused them to fail but he knew it was mostly his doing. Perhaps the war and Voldemort would always have some hold on him and his emotions, despite the fact that he had sought professional help for his mental struggles induced by constant trauma. Perhaps he had been too captive to these old feelings during the last stages of his relationship and been too emotionally befuddled. Ginny had witnessed this in her relationship with Harry and Hermione had as well, both as a friend and girlfriend, but perhaps the latter had grown tired of it.

The final two months for the Chosen One and the Brightest Witch of Her Age were surly. They were full of impatience, misunderstanding, confusion, short tempers, and loud silences, which was not helped by their abundant workload. The dissolution happened unexpectedly but surely, the way their relationship had commenced, and it had gone too far to be fixed before either realized.

Hermione still thought about the day of their break up at times and the raw emotion that had defined it. It was a break up that had not been planned but had been unavoidable after the encounter that preceded it. It had been on a Sunday afternoon in early October and they had been at home. They had been having a conversation about something that had seemed vital then but inconsequential now, and the conversation had progressed into a disagreement which then erupted into an argument, followed by a fight that resulted in the cessation of their romance. Harry's rather well known anger was hardly ever directed at Hermione but she had been its sole recipient that Sunday. At the climax of their verbal altercation, he had informed her that it was incredibly ironic that she was so logical because, emotionally, she was "a fucking head case." After being rendered momentarily speechless due to the pure shock and hurt that had slammed into her, the witch had replied in a most disdainful, cold tone of voice that Harry's biggest fear was being alone and he deserved it. Hermione left the apartment the very next second by Apparating away, and, in an intense fit of fury and anguish, Harry tore through the flat and gathered half of her belongings in a quarter of an hour, his anger fueled magic aiding him. He dumped them near the front door before also Apparating away, his destination being Ron's and Luna's home.

He did not return until the next morning. Harry knew he had to prepare for work but the previous day had been awful and taken a large, emotional toll on him. He regretted his words to Hermione but any chance of any dialogue between them withered away when he trudged into his apartment and noticed fairly quickly that the brunette, and every single possession of hers, was gone. Additionally, she was not present for work at the Ministry that day and it was then that Harry knew-and knew without a doubt- that their relationship was over. It shook him to his core and he spent most of the day stowed away in his office, feeling as though his life had crumbled around him.

He did not hear from Hermione until one week later and it was not friendly when he did. It was an indication of things to come.

The first seven months following the pair's break up was contentious and strained, something they had never really experienced before in regard to one another. Their romantic relationship had negatively influenced their friendship and made things uncomfortable and awkward between them through the entirety of winter and spring. Harry and Hermione had only started being friendly again within the last five months, intent on rebuilding the strong friendship they had shared since the beginning of their prepubescent lives. Consequently, Ron had been the one to encourage them to salvage their meaningful bond, sincerely unhappy that their dynamic as a trio had been ransacked by the failed romantic attempt between two of its members.

And now, about a year after the end of their relationship, Hermione and Harry seemed to be in a very promising place to rebuild the staunch connection that had been established between them 15 years ago… and the brunette witch would be damned if an old roommate from school told her how _she_ felt about Harry Potter.

* * *

It was busy downstairs. The music thrummed more deeply against one's bones, and bodies pressed against one another in a way that was both careless and impactful. The wizards and witches on the dance floor were packed together tightly, all victims to the music and substances they had consumed, and a clear line or pocket of empty space could not be seen or detected. Ginny and Hermione pushed their way through the exuberant crowd, the latter still scowling and determined to make her way to one of two bars downstairs. When they had managed to step up to the long counter of busy patrons and bartenders, the red head looked dubiously at the older witch.

"Hermione…" the Weasley woman commenced as Hermione hailed one of the workers behind the bar.

"Yes?" came the short reply.

"Why did we come down here for a drink?"

"Because I wanted to see what it's like!"

"Okay… and it has nothing to do with you possibly being upset over Parvati?" Ginny pondered.

"I _am_ upset, actually," Hermione admitted, "Because she has no bloody idea what she's talking about!"

"She doesn't?"

"No!"

"Oh. I see," Ginny answered, "Well, it _does_ seem like you were noticeably pissy once she had danced with Harry."

Hermione was saved from having to respond to that by being directly acknowledged by one of the bartenders. She gave her order before turning around and resting her elbows on the counter, trying to downplay her disgruntled facial expression.

"Let's just get a drink and dance." Hermione suggested. It sounded like both a command and a plea. Ginny said nothing and simply nodded in agreement.

Once Hermione had gotten her drink and consumed it (rather quickly), the two women moved purposefully into the throng of moving bodies captivated by pulsing harmonies. They moved slightly to the pounding beat of the first song as they half shouted to each other but had committed to dancing freely when the second song began. By the end of the third song, Hermione appeared markedly more at ease and not so vexed, even sporting something of a smile on her countenance. When Ginny proposed they return upstairs, the Granger woman agreed and the two initiated their trek back upstairs.

They were stopped, conversely, by a wizard with sandy colored hair and wearing a brazen smile.

"Hello, ladies!" he greeted, holding up a hand in front of Hermione (who was a few steps ahead of Ginny).

"Hello," she cautiously stated. Ginny appraised him and his friend, whom hung back and was displaying a lecherous grin.

"I recognize you, of course!"

"You do?"

"How could I not? Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley! Who wouldn't?!" the man supplied, eyeing them both.

"Oh. Well, yes- thank you for the kind greeting." Hermione said.

"Where're you two duckies off to?" the friend questioned.

"Upstairs." Ginny stated.

"What? You're leaving?" the original wizard asked.

"That's where we've been, where our friends are. So we just want to get back."

"Already?"

"We've been down here for quite a bit-" Hermione started.

"So we reckon it's time to go," the red head finished.

"But we've only just been acquainted!" man number one claimed.

"Yes, and it is a shame. Maybe if we'd met earlier we would've been able to chat longer, but we really should be getting back now!" Hermione relayed. She made to move forward but sandy hair stepped right in front of her, his smile not wavering. Ginny's eyes narrowed.

"But you haven't even asked our names," he observed, nodding at his friend.

"What are they, then?" Ginny posited impatiently.

"I'm Sam and that's Will."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both- Will, Sam- and it _is_ unfortunate it wasn't sooner, but we've got to go. Really." Hermione asserted.

"Whoa whoa whoa!," Sam exclaimed, moving forward closer to the brunette, "Now, what's the real rush, love?"

"We want to get back. Is that a crime?" Ginny wondered, stepping up next to her friend. Sam looked at her and, for the first time since he had accosted them, the smile fell from his face. Will leered at the witches.

"No need to be cross, _Miss_ Weasley. I also believe I wasn't talking to _you_." Sam dryly pointed out. The red head felt her anger instantly flare up and the other witch saw it in her demeanor.

"Well we _would_ like to get back. Apologies, again," Hermione cited firmly, glancing between the men, "Good night to you both."

She had to shoulder past Sam as he made no effort whatsoever to get out of the way, and he ended up roughly grabbing her forearm before she could bypass his vicinity completely. He yanked Hermione around to face him and she gasped in surprise and outrage. Ginny cried out.

"Don't be so rude!," he seethed, peering at her in both an angry and lustful way, "No one likes a bitch!"

"Take your hands off her!" Ginny shouted, moving forward deftly right as Sam invaded the Muggleborn's space even more. He glanced quickly at the approaching Ginny and used his free hand, his left hand, to abruptly shove her away.

Everything seemed to happen all at once in the following moment.

Sam yelled out in alarm and pain as he was forced away from Hermione in the blink of an eye. He hit the ground, hard, and Harry had suddenly appeared next to both women, looking nothing short of livid with balled fists and a heaving chest, glowering at the man on the floor below him.

When Harry watched Ginny and Hermione leave their room he was slightly confused and a bit disconcerted, if only because Hermione had _stalked_ out of the room and look perturbed. He did not go to follow them, of course, but he did vow to watch out for them through the room's windows as they milled about downstairs. He did a good job of engaging with his old school mates while simultaneously keeping track of the two women among the large crowd on the lower level, a feat that was made easier due to Ginny's flaming hair. Consequently, once more than 20 minutes had passed and they still had not returned, Harry gave up pretenses and stood at the glass with a drink in his hand to do nothing but watch them. Ron joined him not long afterward.

"Looking down on your subjects below, King Harry?" his best friend joked. A smile tugged at the Auror's lips.

"Just two of them," he answered, gesturing to their female counterparts.

"They've been down there for a bit, eh?"

"Aye."

Harry could not articulate why he had steadfastly monitored their whereabouts since their departure or why he simply did not turn away, but he reasoned he was just being a good, observant friend. On the lookout in case anything were to happen… such as two men approaching Hermione and Ginny with smiles that were obvious from even up here. He felt a tiny knot develop in his chest as he squinted at the men.

"So, things have been good with you and Hermione tonight." Ron mentioned.

"Yes," the darked haired man replied, glancing at the pureblood, "We're friends. Why wouldn't they?"

"Of course you are. You're right. Best friends- all of us! So I reckon it only makes sense, then, that you've been looking at her all night."

Harry felt his shoulders tense but was unsure if it was in response to Ron's statement or the fact that the men downstairs continued to linger near the witches.

"You Weasleys are all the same." Harry commented, thinking of Ginny's earlier sly remarks. Ron laughed heartily.

"One of my perceptive siblings also noticed that?" he questioned.

"Perceptive may be too strong of a word. I think I prefer delusional."

"Delusional. Right. Says the bloke who is staring down at our friend as we speak!"

Harry grinned before giving his full attention back to the quartet on the dance floor, only to witness one of the men grab Hermione. His breath stopped and his grip on his drink vanished. He felt Ron start beside him and begin to yell something, but when he then saw the same man push Ginny while he held onto the brunette, Harry stopped thinking as well. He only felt. And what he felt was rage and adrenaline and a surging need to be next to Hermione. _Right away._

Sam had been hit with three bouts of magic: Hermione's, Ginny's, and Harry's. He wailed as he rocked back and forth in the fetal position. Will stared at him helplessly, mouth agape, before he brought his eyes to the, now three, former Gryffindors. He was met with hard glares and then rushed to help his friend stand up, although he was shaking himself. However, once Sam had made it back on his feet, Harry swiftly bombarded him and grabbed him around his shirt's collar, the snarl quite evident on his countenance. Will had jumped back in fear.

"If you _ever_ touch either of these women again or acknowledge them in _any_ capacity, I will personally come to your place of residence and stuff your wand down your throat before I break every last bone in your body!," Harry growled, "And once that's done, I will arrest your pathetic arse and haul you off to Azkaban! Do you understand me?!"

"Yes! _Yes_!" Sam breathed out, grasping at the Auror's hands as they tightened around his neck.

"Harry!" Hermione uttered, dashing up to him and using one hand to hang loosely around his waist while the other tried to forcefully loosen his grip on Sam, "Let go!"

A part of her realized that the only way to explain Harry's sudden presence next to them was Apparition, which meant that he must have been watching them, but there were more pressing matters to currently consider.

The dark haired wizard directed his irate expression on her and she looked back without contrite.

"Let go. Please. He's not even worth the paperwork you'd have to do for an arrest!" she rationalized. Harry peered at her for another second before attuning to Sam once more. He released Sam with repulsion written all over his face and in his tone of voice.

"Get the hell out of here." Harry deadpanned, flexing his wand hand. He wanted nothing more than to take out his indignation on the other man. Panting and looking scared, Sam rubbed his throat as he looked at the Potter man before gazing at the women.

" _Now_!" came the forceful demand.

Will smacked his friend on the shoulder in warning before running off and Sam was quick to follow. Neither looked back.

"What a prick!" Ginny half shouted, "A disgusting prick!"

"Are you two okay?" Harry asked, peering between them.

"Yes. Just furious! The git deserved to be hexed by all of us!"

"I wanted to do more." Harry grit out, shaking his head.

"You did enough! You were great." Hermione said, looking at him earnestly, " _Thank_ you, Harry."

"Yes. Thanks, Harrison," Ginny added, stepping up and squeezing his upper arm, "Where'd you come from, anyway?"

"He Apparated."

"Blimey! I know this place has pretty stringent Apparition rules so I'm impressed!"

"I didn't even realize! I just saw what he did, saw _red_ , and next thing I know I'm standing over him," he claimed, frowning at the floor and still feeling notably angry.

"I think we all saw red. I would've liked to see it in the form of his blood, but…" Ginny remarked.

"Ginny." Hermione uttered in a sharp voice. She knew Harry was still upset and he did not need anything to keep him riled up. The younger witch shrugged.

"Let's go back," the Granger woman cited.

"Yes," exhaled Ginny.

"Harry? Let's go." Hermione gazed at him, noticing that his eyes had not left the floor. She waited until he met her stare but he continued to look angry.

"Come on," the red head noted. She led the way and the brunette took Harry's hand before following. He went along but wore a scowl, which may or may not have caused the people who had watched that confrontation (which was a large portion) to trip over themselves to get out of the way.

Ginny vivaciously complained about Sam the entire time they made their way back to the room with interjections from Hermione, while Harry remained totally silent, bringing up the rear as he still held Hermione's hand. When the trio crossed over the threshold, at least half of the room's occupants' eyes fell upon them. (Harry's Apparition downstairs had been loud and drawn subsequent attention, but had had to compete with the club's bumping music). Ron was the first to run over to them and was trailed by a handful of others.

"Bang up job of tossing that pissant out, Harry!" Ron gruffly acknowledged.

"Are you two okay?" George questioned, peering at the women.

"We're fine." Hermione assured. Ginny nodded her agreement.

"I can't believe he had the fucking audacity to touch either of you!" Ron exclaimed.

"Nor can I." Harry grumbled.

"Did you get his name? Where he lives? Are we going to beat the shit out of him later?"

"Yes, no, and no. Ms. Granger here says we shouldn't beat him to a pulp!" Ginny attested. Hermione sighed. Being the voice of reason when dealing with Ron, Harry, and Ginny, all of whom were short tempered, was never easy.

"We're _fine_ now. There's no point in making things worse or staying angry. He didn't get away with it, he's gone, and it's over," the brunette attested.

"As long as he doesn't show his face again!" Ron threatened. Luna put a soothing hand on his bicep.

"He won't. He can't be _that_ much of an idiot."

"Ergh. I think I need another drink to come down from that!" Ginny cited, throwing out her hands and turning left for the bar.

"Wait a minute there, Quidditch star! I'm coming as well to start monitoring how many you're consuming!" George stated.

"You're one to talk! And it's my last one!... most likely."

They walked away and left a quartet in their wake.

"You and Ginny surely don't need protection as you're more than capable witches, but I'm sure it was nice to have Harry there as a defender." Luna observed.

"Yes. Very much." Hermione confirmed, peering at him. Harry returned the look but the vestiges of anger were still very much present on his face, which caused her to draw her brows. Surely he still could not be as upset as he was when he confronted Sam? Surly Harry would be anything but helpful or enjoyable right now!

"Harry beat me to it, but, you know, I would've jumped in to help as well." Ron pointed out.

"Yes, I _do_ know," the brunette smiled wryly. He was being his usual, humorous self but she also knew there was truth behind his quip. Harry's expression did not change at Ron's joke and the red head glanced at him.

"Everything all right, Harry?" Luna inquired, cocking her head to side as she, too, seemed to notice his non-responsiveness. The dark haired wizard's head shot up and he looked around at them quickly.

"I'm... I'm fine! I'm fine," he half muttered.

"We'll, uh, we'll leave you two on your own. We have to finish our conversation with Neville and Hannah anyway! Catch back up in a bit." Ron commented, giving his female best friend a look before glancing rapidly at his male best friend. Hermione nodded in appreciation and Luna waved merrily as she was guided away by her husband in the subsequent instant.

Hermione turned to face Harry once the pair was alone.

"Harry," she said simply. His gaze locked with hers.

"Yes," he replied.

"You're upset. Or still angry."

He did not answer this time. She searched his face and he did not look away but he continued to look exceptionally displeased. Hermione sighed after a long moment and then took his hand once more.

"Let's dance."

"What?" Harry posited, frowning slightly.

"Dance with me."

He stared at her briefly. When he slowly nodded his consent, she led him back to the room's glass windows, coincidentally right by the one through which he had watched her and Ginny. He immediately looked out and down to the dance floor, squinting a bit as though he expected to find Will and Sam present again and resuming their seedy prowl. Hermione wrapped her arms firmly around Harry's neck and pulled him closer as she began to sway slightly and stare at him fixedly. This caught his attention and his gaze rapidly moved from the level below to the witch in front of him.

They watched each other without words and, soon enough, his hands came up to rest on her hips.

"Why are you still so bothered by what happened?," she pondered softly, "I know you are, Harry- it's quite easy to read your emotions. It was… ludicrous, yes, but we're okay! I'm okay."

There was silence and the witch initially thought, with some exasperation, that he would keep with his pattern of not speaking. However, he did answer her after a stint.

"I… I hate seeing people trying to harm you," Harry explained in a low voice, "Seeing people… _touch_ you, when you don't want it, or haven't invited it… it drives me mad. It blinds me." Shock passed over Hermione's face as she gaped at him.

"Still?" she asked quietly.

"Still?," he asked, confused by this question as evidenced by him drawing back his head, "When would it have changed?" The brunette gave a meek smile and finally looked away.

"Well, it's just… after how things ended between us, I thought…"

"But things didn't end between us, Hermione. Our romance did, but if it had _all_ truly ended, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now. We wouldn't be dancing. We wouldn't be this close to each other- literally."

"We wouldn't be anything." Hermione stated in a far away voice, looking at him once more. He nodded.

"I'll want to protect you no matter _what_ happens between us. You could scream that you never want to see me again come tomorrow, and follow through with it, and I would still do whatever I can to make sure you're safe," Harry relayed, returning the gaze, "It's in my bones, protecting you."

They stared at one another. Conversely, it was broken, unintentionally or not, when it became too magnetic.

"Good to know. I'll be sure to exploit that," she remarked in a charming tone, moving her arms and having them secure his neck more tightly.

"Actually, I think _I've_ exploited how willing _you_ are to protect me. Hogwarts years one through six are ringing a bell here, plus that little camping trip. You know, the one that lasted nearly a year and was spent running in terror while looking for impossible clues," he replied. A large smile appeared on her face.

"Yeah, I think I remember something about a small camping trip. But that was nearly a decade ago so you'll have to forgive me if details are rather fuzzy."

"You are a bit on the old side so I can forgive you."

Hermione looked scandalized and made a tut of protest although she was smiling. She made to detangle herself from Harry's embrace but his arms quickly went to circle around her waist and he pulled her in closer, his grip tightening. She inhaled inaudibly.

"Nuh uh. You told me to dance with you so we have to dance before you run off." Harry cited, grinning in a mischievous, triumphant way.

"Harry Potter actually insisting he dance? What world is this?" Hermione inquired, hands on his chest. She wore her own playful smile.

"One where his partner is Hermione Granger. It's also easier to ensure you don't go back downstairs, where there are creeps, if you're dancing with me."

"That means we'd have to actually dance. And not talk. As we've been doing."

"We've _danced_ plenty of times before so that shouldn't be a problem for us. And come to think of it, we didn't talk those times either, although I do remember one or both of us moaning," he cited.

The brunette gasped aloud and her eyes widened, understanding the type of "dancing" Harry had just referenced. His eyes were glittering and his grin was positively wicked. Harry was usually an odd mixture of decorum and cheek but for him to allude to their former sex life, in such a blase, blatant manner, when they had only been on the good end of their separation for a number of months!... He was either totally comfortable with Hermione right now or inebriated. Or both.

She swatted at Harry repeatedly while he laughed. He did not not attempt to stop her playful jabs and actually seemed to enjoy them.

"You! Enough! Dance!" she directed, pointing at him when she was finished. Her eyes were alive as well and she was wrestling between displaying a smirk and a smile. The brash of this man!

"All right, all right!" he conceded.

Harry pulled the witch closer again so they were back in their original position more conducive to dancing in sync. She shook her head at him and he flashed her another wide grin before he began moving them to the beat of the uptempo song. They said nothing during the first song although they did look at one another and trade grins, smirks, and tiny laughs while their hands moved around frequently. They persisted in remaining silent while dancing to the second song but the humorous mood faded away; instead, the two were beginning to gaze steadily at each other and their hands had found suitable stationary homes: Hermione's perched on his shoulders and Harry's wrapped around her waist.

Hermione had been so wrapped up in her staring competition with Harry that it took her a moment to realize a third song had commenced, one that was notably more mellow than the previous two. She continued to peer at him but stopped moving for a second and licked her bottom lip.

"Do you, erm, want to take a break or anything?" she questioned. Maintaining eye contact, Harry shook his head and pulled her back to him, one hand falling to her hip. He guided her bottom half in returning to the rhythm they had previously set and she followed without question.

When the hand that had directed her hip then slowly caressed this area before gently squeezing it, the brunette felt her breath hitch. Harry had not looked away from her once and she felt her heart rate increase as she looked into his green irises. She briefly recalled that he had referenced their past sexual interludes and wondered why he had done so.

Conversely, the magnetic pull between them was broken in the succeeding moment when the couple felt two large hands fall suddenly upon her left shoulder and his back. They both jerked somewhat only to see Ron standing right next to them with a bright grin on his countenance.

"Well you seem to be feeling better, mate!," the red head exclaimed to Harry, patting his back, "Just needed to loosen up a bit, I see! Good thinking, Herms!" The dance partners glanced at one another.

"Er, yeah, Ron, yeah! Just needed to calm down a bit." Harry attested, reluctantly letting go of Hermione.

"Have you had something to drink while we danced, Ronald?" she inquired, tipped off by the use of the unappreciated nickname.

"Just a shot! But I think I'm done for now because Luna thinks I'm done for now, so I came to fetch my best friends so we can talk!" Ron relayed. She struggled not to roll her eyes while Harry grinned.

It seemed that Ron actually did want to talk because, when they relocated to a place closer to the room's entrance, they ended up discussing a variety of topics: more about Teddy and their respective jobs, about expansion for Ron's and George's joke shop, about Harry's desire to become Head Auror, and about Hermione's goal to become Head of the DMLE. The conversation was indeed enjoyable but a small part of Hermione was still disappointed her dancing with her dark haired friend had been interrupted, and she wondered if he felt similarly. She threw furtive glances his way to assess his reaction to their short lived dancing but she could not gather anything. It had been nice to dance with Harry, satisfying….

The trio rejoined the fray of their schoolmates after their personal discussion. Hermione observed that the two witches who had come via George and Dean were no longer present and she felt moderate vindication that they were gone. Seamus started squabbling with Lee about something and the Muggleborn watched their interaction with surprised amusement while standing near Harry. He was making remarks under his breath as though commenting on a sports match and she had to stifle her laughter, feeling too loose from the alcohol to admonish him. It was pleasant to be close to him as she was _still_ perturbed that their dancing had been halted.

 _If it's_ that _big of a deal, just ask him to dance again, hellooo!_ an insipid voice directed.

The thought gave Hermione immense pause. Why was she hyperfocusing on dancing with Harry? She did not know what was stopping her from asking him to dance again and at some point while she deliberated over this, the man in question had wandered away from her, likely due to the fact that the witch had gotten progressively less vocal, too immersed in her thoughts. When Hermione snapped out of her mental daze and registered Harry was gone, she instinctively sought him out with her eyes before scolding herself for doing so.

 _You've looked out for him all night! Stop it. Socialize with others!_ she instructed. Frowning, she realized the truth in that. To remedy it, she set her shoulders before merging into the nearby conversation of Susan and Padma, plastering a smile on her face.

Hermione was only half successful in conversing with the other witches. She was able to keep up with input and processing half of what they were discussing, but her mind had also decided to then analyze why she had been looking out for Harry all night. Thinking that perhaps she needed a different topic of conversation to get her focused, she switched to join Ernie, Alicia, and Dean in their discourse. It worked for a few minutes until her brain went back to questioning why the Auror had mentioned their old sex life as the others spoke around her.

Hermione huffed to herself. Why was her brain suddenly concentrating on Harry so much? There were other people here, other friends she had! She could dance with other people, talk to other people, hell- she could even mull over a past sex life with Ron if she really wanted to! So what was that unique about Harry right now? Why was he becoming the focus of her thoughts?

 _Maybe if you just see where he is, it'll ease some of your thoughts. Just pinpoint where he is right now and continue on with your night._

That could work… acknowledging the issue in order to lessen its effect. Feeling a bit better that she was giving herself permission, Hermione rapidly shut her eyes before turning away from Dean, Alicia, and Ernie and searching the room for her best friend. (Consequently, her detachment was not noticed much by the other three). She found him seated on one of the sofas and her gaze immediately became glued on him.

 _There. You've found him. Satisfied?_

She was satisfied, actually. And this satisfaction only grew when Harry looked up and met her gaze before fully returning it. There was a cursory streak of staring between them until he broke it by giving half a smile and beckoning her over. The satisfaction turned into dull excitement for some reason (why did that excite her?) and something related to a smile made Hermione's mouth twitch before she made her way over to where he was seated. Harry watched her progression without looking anywhere else the entire trek.

The Granger woman settled on the right of him but did not look at him; instead, she peered out at their friends and smiled lightly. Harry watched her with a covetous smirk.

"Fancy meeting you here." Hermione quipped.

"Quite. I would've never thought it were possible to run into each other in a room that's the size of a classroom," he responded, the smirk still in place, "How've you been enjoying tonight?"

"Very much, actually. I'm glad I came out."

"Yeah. I know what you mean. Of course, this is not counting the mishap downstairs."

"Harry, you seem more traumatized about that incident than I do!" she partially laughed, "Still holding a grudge… but then again, you did always have a hard time letting things go." The Auror's mouth fell open in humorous disbelief.

" _Me? I_ have a hard time letting things go? Really, Miss Spew?" Harry prodded. This time, her mouth fell open in mock indignation.

"S.P.E.W.!" Hermione avidly insisted.

"Yeah. Spending months upon months to trick elves into gaining freedom is _totally_ something people who can let go of things do!"

"It was for their absolute benefit! They'd been brainwashed and needed an advocate!"

"Sounds like you _still_ can't let go of the elves," Harry noted, the smirk back in place, "But I don't know if I can blame _spew_."

"Take it back," she demanded, shaking her head although a grin was on her features.

"Take what back?"

"Everything you just said! But especially take back that _horrid_ play on words."

"No," he grinned.

"Take it back!" the brunette ordered.

"Sounds like you're having a difficult time letting this go right now, Hermione!"

"Harry!"

Grinning, Hermione raised her hand as if to swat him. He laughed and dodged a swipe before quickly grabbing her hand and then snatching the other one.

"If you want me to take it back, make me." Harry muttered, pulling her within inches of his face.

The witch felt her breath stop. The playfulness of their interaction promptly faded away as he realized just how close he had brought her to his upper body. Hermione's eyes rapidly dipped down to his lips before shooting back up to his face. She then remembered how Harry had caressed her during the last song to which they had danced and her heart began to pump notably fast. His gaze roamed over her face earnestly and he continued to hold her hands in his. Another moment of captivation between them, and they only seemed to be growing in how long they lasted.

"Harry!" someone nearby called. They attuned to the voice with surprise and saw Hannah standing on the other side of the table. She looked happy and a bit red.

Yet another interrupted interlude.

"Yeah, Hannah?" Harry replied, feeling just a tad disoriented. He granted his friend's hands their freedom.

"Would you allow me a dance? Neville has gone into professor mode and is giving Ginny a lecture about Herbology. It's his go to when he drinks but I want a dance, not a lecture," the Hufflepuff reported.

"Oh! Er, sure!," He peered at Hermione again, "D'you mind?"

"Of course not! You don't have to ask me, anyway; you can dance with whomever you want," she claimed, gesturing and chuckling somewhat nervously.

"Just want to be considerate." Harry observed, half smiling as he stood up.

"I'll return him shortly, Hermione." Hannah remarked.

"No worries!" Hermione stated, waving it off.

And the Muggleborn actually was not worried. Or annoyed, or upset, or any other intense emotion because Hannah wanted to dance with Harry. This was in stark contrast to how she had felt when it was that random woman and Parvati, and she pondered as to why as she watched the pair. It may have had something to do with the fact that Hannah was engaged and utterly clear with her intentions, and because she had never shown any interest in Harry that was not strictly friendly.

But why did any of that even matter to Hermione? It shouldn't have. She should not feel _threatened_ by others dancing with her best friend. Beginning to feel flustered with how tonight was turning out for her in relation to Harry, she grabbed a drink she spotted on the table and took a long sip. Hermione made a face before setting it back down; when the world swam before her eyes even though she was sitting perfectly still, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She was done drinking, she reasoned. And maybe this was for the better- maybe the alcohol had contributed to this night's ever increasing odd state with Harry.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so, I misjudged myself in my writing. I initially thought this fic would be a one-shot… then I thought it'd be a two-shot… now it's looking like it's going to be a three-shot. Or a two-shot with some change. Haha. I'm unsure if I should apologize or not for having this turn out to be longer than anticipated, but I'm just taking it as I get a little too enthusiastic when writing H/Hr.

Final part coming soon!


	3. Chapter 3

**The Other Night**

When Harry finished dancing with Hannah after a couple minutes, he returned to Hermione on the sofa. Soon enough, a crowd gathered around the couches and them, by association, and they became part of the vivacious dialogue of their peers. Lee insisted Hermione dance with him at one point and she promised him a dance before the night was over, as she was striving to gain some level of composure due to her tipsiness.

Harry and Hermione found themselves speaking exclusively with each other again after a period of time although the small crowd continued around them.

"Can I ask something?" he pondered. His left hand sat in between her right leg and his left, and he was staring at it as his fingers idly stroked the fabric of the couch.

"Of course. You don't have to ask to ask me a question!" she replied, rolling her eyes yet smiling.

"Why _did_ you go downstairs earlier?"

He was stuck on her trip downstairs again, was he? What _was it_ that had him so fixated?!

"I wanted to see what it was like," the witch shrugged.

"Is that all?" Harry questioned.

"I… I needed some air, I suppose. Air that wasn't in here. Why do you ask?"

"It's just that you seemed peeved when you left. And Parvati also said you left because you were angry with her."

Hermione felt blood shot throughout her body at his words and vaguely wondered if the flush was visible.

"Parvati told you that?" she wondered in a strained voice, "How? Why?"

"Ron and I were talking about how you and Ginny had gone and she mentioned that there was a good chance you were cross with her," he relayed. He continued to watch his hand; it was now closer to the bottom of Hermione's thigh.

"Did she say why?"

"No."

Thank God for small miracles. Parvati had at leastkept her mouth quiet about her theory that Hermione had been jealous.

"Hmm," the brunette uttered, feeling a brush of irritation.

"Were you?" Harry inquired.

"Was I what?"

"Angry with her?"

There was a long moment before Hermione answered but when she did it was:

"Earlier, yes."

Another pause.

"Oh," he uttered. The Auror's gaze continued to be riveted to his hand. He moved it languidly until he was touching the skin of the bottom of her thigh. The witch felt another flush run through her but this one had nothing to do with annoyance. She stared at his hand, too.

"Wait, you said I seemed peeved when I left-" Hermione commenced.

"I did?"

"Yes. Not long ago. You saw me- us- leave… were you watching me? Us?"

"No. I just happened to see you leave." Harry claimed. His hand started to move up her thigh in the same languid manner and her breath became tight in her chest.

"You had to have been watching us to see that cretin grab me and push Ginny, though," she noted, praying her voice was stable and not shaking in any sense. Her eyes remained glued on his hand's trek. Harry grunted in response to her statement.

"Why?" the brunette posited.

"Why what?" the wizard asked.

"Were you watching me then? Watching us."

His hand was now tracing muted, lazy patterns on the exposed skin of her upper leg, of the part of her thigh that was not covered by her dress. There was an extended bout of silence as they both focused on it, with Hermione feeling her heart slam inside her chest.

"Why do _you_ think?" he asked in a gravelly voice. Harry then brought his eyes up to look right at her, not stopping his movements.

Hermione opened her mouth to respond but found she did not have one, and her lips remained parted as she peered back at him helplessly. What _did_ she think? What had happened to her words? What was happening overall? Her brain had gotten uncommonly foggy uncommonly fast… maybe his gentle touch on her leg had something to do with that. She could not even bring herself to look down to observe that sensation; it was like once he had trained his gaze on her, she had become useless.

Harry, meanwhile, found his stare traveling slowly from her face (where her lush lips were hanging open) down to the rest of her, where her body was encased in that form fitting blue dress. His hand involuntarily squeezed the skin of her leg it was caressing. The color looked lovely on her and the dress complimented her shape so well. _So well_. He let his mind wander a bit as he remembered the peaks and valleys of her body- of her curves- that he had once had the opportunity to know on an intimate basis. Harry had always appreciated Hermione's curves once he had registered they were there, even if that appreciation had happened on a subconscious level early on.

Hermione, for her part, was once again thinking of his reference to their former sex life. Why? _Why_ was she thinking it over, yet again, and _why_ had Harry brought it up in the first place? She blamed the amount of liquor she had consumed. And his persistent stroking of her upper leg was not helping matters!

She finally closed her mouth and cleared her throat, although she seemed to be pulsing all over different areas of her body.

"I don't know." Hermione said at last, sweeping away a few of the tendrils of her hair that had fallen around her ear.

Harry's gaze had returned to her face. His fingertips slowly stroked up before moving back down, although the downward stroke was firmer. She let out a significantly shaky exhale, shutting her eyes for a moment. Why was she not stopping his touches, or saying something about them in the very least?

"Dance with me again," he muttered.

Hermione's head whipped around. Harry's hand had finally stopped, resting on her thigh, but his eyes were focused intensely on her. She had wanted to dance with him again since they had been interrupted by Ron what now seemed like eons ago, so to hear him suggest that they resume was more than encouraging. Encouraging, reassuring… exciting. All because her long time friend had asked her to dance.

"A-All right," the Muggleborn agreed as her heart soared.

He removed his hand from her leg and used it to grab her hand before standing and pulling her along with him. Harry maneuvered them away from the couches and back to the room's high windows, right back to where they had been dancing the first time. She followed silently, her heart still performing gymnastics, and when she was facing him once more she thought her face might be a tad red. He pulled Hermione directly against him before his hands moved lower to her hips while her arms found themselves wound tightly around his neck again.

The somber mood that had engulfed Harry on the sofa persisted and he said nothing as their dancing began anew. Consequently, he was staring at her ardently, as though there was no other stimuli in the room. Hermione wondered if she should say something but was unsure what that might be, and it was likely a useless consideration anyway because his unwavering stare quickly pulled her in.

The song that was playing was quirky and fast paced yet the two were moving a bit slower than what the beat demanded. The brunette's heart rate had not really calmed any to her fascination and annoyance, and it in fact stuttered when she felt Harry start to guide her hips how he wanted. She chewed on her bottom lip momentarily as she continued to peer in his eyes but when she felt that magnetism that had been present all night become a little too strong, Hermione closed her own eyes and wove her arms as tightly as they would go before resting her head on his chest. At this proximity, she felt and heard his deep intake of breath and felt rather comforted by it.

They moved this way in a pleased manner for a minute or two. Accordingly, Harry's gaze roved over the parts of his best friend's body that he could see… her hair (which smelled particularly nice), her shoulders, her back (which looked slightly arched as she leaned into him), the enticing slope of her lower back... her hips, where his hands were… the swell of her rear. He grit his teeth. His hands began to itch. They wanted to explore.

Harry waited until the second song to allow his hands to slowly wander, feeling an electric charge kickstart and buzz throughout his own body. He took a deliberate whiff of her hair before his hands tenderly rubbed her shoulders then traveled down her shoulder blades. He dragged them down her back before swiping up and down her sides a few times, his nose nuzzling her bun in order to get more of the inviting scent. Hermione bit down a groan and tried to further burrow her head into Harry's chest when she felt his hands roaming her back. She knew her face _must_ be red now and was partially glad that he could not see it since it was pressed into his sternum. His touches felt wonderful.

His hands made it to her lower back and he rubbed the expanse of it before his fingers dipped a little lower, to the very top of where the curve of her ass began. Harry swallowed hard and pressed her into him more, his fingers dying to keep moving south. _Watch yourself_ , he told himself. As an alternative to running over the hump of her derriere, his hands moved to the sides of her hips where they gripped the cloth of her dress, causing the material to vaguely bunch. He had avoided caressing her ass but that had not meant it had been easy to do, and it surely did not keep him from watching it now.

Hermione could hear Harry's heart pumping and it had only gotten faster and louder with each passing minute. He was in an excited state? This knowledge made the pulsing of her body become more heightened, as she was certain it had to do with their dancing and their closeness. He was physiologically stimulated by this? By her? The notion of this made the witch feel light headed; her brain normally would have commenced firing off analyzing questions, but Hermione _had_ been drinking and she simply wanted to enjoy the sensations of grooving with Harry in such a familiar way.

Her arms had fallen from his neck and her hands now clutched at his back, her head still pressed firmly against his chest. She let out a sigh that bordered on a faint moan when she felt Harry's fingers dip lower until they reached the end of her dress, prior to him grasping at the skin there and pulling up the fabric in order to be able to grip more skin. The next thing Hermione knew, his head was dipped next to hers and he was whispering in her ear.

"Turn around," he instructed rather breathlessly, "I-I want to dance that way."

She pulled away, at last, and peered up at him, feeling partially dazed. Harry looked a lot like how she currently felt and she imagined she must have looked very similar to him. He wanted her to face away from him now… all right. (Truthfully, Hermione felt like she would have done much of anything he asked, without question, in this state). She gave a tiny nod then let her arms drop from his back and took a couple steps away from him.

Harry pulled the Muggleborn against him the instant she had turned to face the window. His arms were snaked right below her breasts and around her navel, and he received a strong waft of the smell of her hair due to her movement. He pushed his hips forward involuntarily as his fingers squeezed the areas of flesh they were holding. A broken groan managed to find its way from his throat. Immediately, Harry knew he had made a mistake by having Hermione change her position.

If the urge to touch and feel her backside had been raucous when she had been facing him and he had had the perfect view to look at it, that urge would easily become a frenzy with her turned away from him. Looking paled in comparison to feeling and he could definitely feel her ass pressed against him, against his crotch, which would surely present a dilemma as this specific area was becoming progressively more aroused the longer they were close.

Harry felt robbed of breath so shut his eyes to center himself, his arms hugging tighter around her. The problem with this was he unintentionally brushed the underside of Hermione's breast. He felt his entire body react and his eyes flew open. He gazed at her from this new angle, wondering how no one in the room had noticed how impossibly loud his heart was banging in his rib cage. Harry wanted to do it again- wanted to feel that sensation again. There was a weak moment of protest from some region of his brain but it was swiftly silenced by the region of his brain that controlled pleasure. Throwing caution to the wind, he repeated the move and brushed her breast's underside once more, intentionally, this time, and a little slower.

He was rewarded by Hermione instinctively arching her back a tad and grasping at his pants with both hands. Harry's heart rate only increased. A primal part of him had awakened surprisingly fast and it was becoming more demanding. More bold and adventurous. He wanted more responses from her.

Harry peered at her body from this new angle. Her throat was visible and exposed to him… her chest was thrown out out enticingly... the flat expanse of her stomach could be seen and felt through the dress… her legs present to his eyes now. His gaze fell back to Hermione's breasts. Like he had with her ass, Harry felt a strong compulsion to put his hands on them: to palm, to knead, to squeeze. And as much as he was being driven by this primal instinct, he could not bring himself to be that brazen… not right now. Accordingly, he settled for an alternative like he had done before, and lightly stroked the sides of her breasts with his thumbs while he released a long, shaky exhale.

Hermione felt as though she were in an oven. It was difficult to breathe normally, she was hot, and she was steadily getting warmer all over as the seconds ticked by. The gentle yet confident roving of Harry's hands on the different areas of her body was hypnotizing, and she felt she did not want to ruin this flawless point in time by saying anything unnecessary. Was he even fully aware that he was touching her like this? Did he know it was making her lose any kind of reason?

When Hermione felt him repeatedly graze the sides of her breasts, her eyes closed and her head fell back against his shoulder as a small noise came from her. Her hands were still gripping his slacks but more fixedly now. Harry stared at her face, where those damned, lush lips of hers were open again, before he focused on her neck. It was barred to him with her in this position and the lights of the club played on its surface, making it look like a supple kaleidoscope. Harry felt another urge to groan as he peered at it. It looked positively perfect for… for licking, for sucking… and he realized that is precisely what he wanted to do to it. All he had to do was bend his head down a fraction and place his lips there!

Harry let out that groan. He forced himself to tear his gaze away from Hermione's throat as he could envision himself lavishing it with his mouth. He closed his eyes, his breathing becoming ladened, and dropped his forehead on her right shoulder. The primal side of him was clamorous right about now and it was causing him to breathe heavily against her. Both of them had stopped paying attention to the music. They were unaware if they were still moving to the rhythm of the song or had made their own but they also could not have cared less. Something odd had happened on that sofa and now it appeared to be reaching a fervor pitch.

Harry's mind was shouting at him to do something, that he had to maintain this feeling and even intensify it. His mind was somewhat dizzy with thoughts of her neck, of her chest and her ass, and his hands ran themselves over her hips once more- firmly, this time- while he attempted to stomp out the persistent desire to lavish these forbidden areas with riotous attention. The Auror's images of these coveted parts of Hermione must have been vivid and commanding because, unconsciously, his hands stilled and he jutted his pelvis forward a few times with her right against him.

Hermione's eyes wrenched open and her heart stopped when she felt his mild rutting.

" _Oh_!" she uttered.

She could hear Harry's open mouthed breathing as his head remained near hers, and it was labored and fast. This observation, along with the feel of leaning into and being surrounded by his solid chest, only made everything quicken for her as well. Her lips were dry and she licked them. One of her hands went to find his as his warm breath became directed at her throat, and it was trembling a tad as it came to rest on his left hand. Maybe now Hermione should venture to say something? Maybe? Harry seemed… captive, to their closeness, and she was hurtling down the same path at an alarming speed.

"Harry," she manage to get out, staring out at the club below them in a stupified manner. There was a moment of silence as the wizard lifted his head some, closer to her right ear.

"Yes?" came the raspy reply. Hermione made a sound that was half moan. Even his voice sounded electrifying….

Harry was unsure if this noise of hers was a trigger or not but he grinded himself against her again immediately following it, hands shooting up to securely hold her waist. He felt her rear pressed deliciously against him and he could not stop the choked noise that arose. Two more instances of moving like this and Harry was gone, in more than one sense. His arousal was now fully fledged and considerably difficult to reign in, but with how he felt right now, he did not want to exercise control over it.

Hermione gasped when she felt Harry start to grind against her in an unwavering manner. Before, it had been a thrilling, sporadic act that she had been aware of but now- now he was doing it continuously as his hold on her tightened. And now- now the evidence of his arousal could not be denied and was very much prodding against her ass. Before she was totally aware of what she was doing, Hermione found herself instinctively moving back into Harry's forward thrusts, eyelids fluttering as she fought to get an adequate amount of air in her lungs. She did not know what her hands were clutching at now but it did not matter, as they were not giving her the stimulation that the wizard's groin currently was.

Harry started panting when he felt his best friend push back against his pelvis and it was enough to nearly make him lose it. His forehead was now pressed into her hair and his breath was coming hot and fast against the back of her neck; his hands could not decide where they wanted to settle on Hermione's front but they squeezed every part they held. The wizard got a bit more forceful in his movements, caught up in the fact that he was now able to rub against her without restraint. Drastic thoughts about taking this further- about taking _her_ \- bombarded his head while he grunted and continued his salacious movement.

Somewhere along the lines of their dancing, Hermione's body had taken over and ruthlessly ejected her mind from the driver's seat. It were as though it had decided her mind could not be trusted to take care of their physical needs so it would now oversee that aspect. If she was responding this frantically to simple (or not so simple) dancing, then it had clearly been too long since she had had fulfilling contact with a man.

But this wasn't just any man- this was Harry. Harry, her oldest friend and ex-boyfriend. Harry, with whom she was rebuilding their substantial bond. And Harry, the person whom she was dry humping in a private room in a club.

The brunette's mind jumped back into the driver's seat as her eyes flew open. What if what they were doing- the sexual nature of their dancing (if it could still be called that)- affected their stance with each other in an adverse way? What if things became too uncomfortable for them after the sexual desires had run their course? What if it ruined all of the progress they had made within the last five months? These thoughts are what caused Hermione to break through the strengthening haze of lust between them and say something.

"H-Harry. _Harry_!" she exclaimed, halting her participation in their gyrating. She swiveled around to face him although she remained in his arms.

The dim lighting of the room made it difficult to see the subtleties in others but Hermione was close to the Auror so she noticed it all. His face was flushed, his chest was rising and falling rapidly, and his pupils were so dilated that she experienced a zap of shock as she looked into them.

"What?" Harry replied, sounding like it had come on the tail end of a pant. She closed her eyes for a moment, registering why he had been breathing that copiously in the first place. (The witch had put some distance between them by turning around in his embrace so his erection was not as persistent against her as it had been).

"We… maybe we should sit back down," the Muggleborn offered, peering at him.

"Sit down?"

"Yes. We've been… we've been, dancing, for a while now. Perhaps we can use a break!"

He stared at her while she remained loosely ensnared in his embrace. When Hermione had called his name moments ago, she had unknowingly interrupted his wild train of thought. He had considered taking her outside the room to a lesser walked hallway and pressing her against the wall, lifting up her dress and-

"Let's sit back down." Hermione asserted, squeezing his shoulders and giving what she hoped was a smile that effectively hid how she was currently feeling. She had taken stock of how her body felt while Harry stared at her and she could not deny that she was riled up. She was hot all over, her heart was sprinting like a runner, her dress was tousled in more than one spot, and, most damning of all, she was throbbing in between her legs. The last observation caused her to blush.

"Sit down. All right," he murmured, "But, I think I'll need a minute to… _calm down_ a bit. Dancing really got my heart pumping."

The witch felt her blush deepen at the innuendo and the small smirk he wore widened a stitch. He actually did want to wait and not have to walk to the sofas and allow anyone else to notice his aroused state, but it was an added bonus to stay with Hermione just a little longer and keep her on edge in the meantime.

She stepped out of Harry's embrace and he did not go to pull her back in, but they remained in close proximity to each other, trading looks that brimmed with unspoken words. When he announced his "heart" was beating normally again, Hermione nodded and moved away from him, taking his right hand in her left and leading them back toward the sitting area. She did not really notice or even think of their friends while she maneuvered them to the couches, her cheeks still burning to some degree as she reflected on the sensual nature of what she had just done with the man trailing behind her. Harry was, also, oblivious to anyone else and followed the witch dutifully, his eyes glued to the way her backside swayed in front of him.

Hermione's face still felt aflame when they sat down side by side. She released his hand and used both of hers to (pointlessly) straighten up her hair and smooth out her dress, not making eye contact with him and saying nothing. He remained silent as well, although his gaze stayed on her while he watched her attempt to fix what their dancing had roused.

Their dancing.

The Granger woman wanted to scowl but knew she could not. What would she even be scowling at? Was she upset? Their dancing had left her frazzled and perhaps that is why she felt compelled to scowl, because her mind and body were all over the place and shouting about one hundred different things at her. Conversely, if dancing had left Hermione flustered, it had left Harry focused. He was not paying attention to anything that was not the brunette. She had stopped fidgeting with her attire and hair, and she now sat staring ahead at anything that was not him. Harry joined her in this quiet interlude yet persisted in looking at her and nowhere else; it was as though he was studying her.

Hermione could obviously sense he was staring and she wondered why, in addition to questioning why she could not seem to look at him. She figured something had to be said to break this odd energy that was flowing between them, but, hell! What would even suffice as a conversation starter following that heady display near the windows? Should she reference it? Consequently, Harry saved her from having to be the one to initiate dialogue, which was all well and good because she was at a lost.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" he asked in a low voice. She quickly peered at him, at last, noticing how collected (if not intent) his face appeared.

"What?" she responded, thinking her voice sounded pathetically squeaky by comparison.

"You seem distracted. Is something wrong?"

"Er, no! No. I'm just… regrouping, I suppose! Thinking about how tonight's been."

"Ah," the Auror nodded in the same, cool tone, "Right. Wanted to make sure you weren't bothered by dancing with me." Hermione's gaze became sharp before it melted into something softer yet cautious, and her heart began beating swiftly again.

"N-No. Why… were you?" she posited, hoping she sounded nonchalant.

"Not at all. I was truthfully a bit put out when you said we should sit down; I enjoyed it. I don't know that I wanted to stop, actually." Harry shifted closer to her at the end of his sentence. His move was deliberate yet slow and it made her heart surge faster.

"Oh? Is that so?"

"Yes," he stated, "As your partner, I hope you enjoyed yourself too. It'd only be fair."

"I d-did." Hermione told him, unconsciously putting down her hand on the sofa to brace herself. How funny. She had been committed in not looking at Harry before and now she could not look away, which was not the first time this had happened tonight. She had half a mind to seriously consider the fact that his eyes were merely well disguised green magnets.

"You did?"

"Yes..."

"Truly?" the wizard probed, sliding closer still and pressing into her left leg, her thigh.

"Y-Yes," she commented in tremulous voice. His proximity was making her body get worked up all over again. What was he doing?!

It got worse in the next second. Harry then placed his right hand on the back of her neck, near the top, and moved so he was speaking directly into her ear.

"Then why did you say we should stop?" he posited.

Hermione felt like she was going to swoon. She grabbed the wrist on his arm that was holding her neck and did not catch the corresponding weak noise she made. The facial hair along his jawline rubbed against her cheek.

"We... we!…" the witch replied.

"Was it too much?"

"N-No! I… I just!-"

"Then was it not enough?" Harry inquired, mouth still hovering near her ear. His breath was warm and tickled nicely, making her mental space fuzzy.

"I-I-It!…," She groaned, knowing her mind had gotten stuck because she was flawlessly stumbling over words, "Harry, it-"

"I don't think it was enough for me, Hermione. I wanted more."

"More w-what?"

"Of you," he attested.

The wizard's tongue flicked out and made contact with the top part of her ear. The woman closed her eyes and released a breathless whimper, her center pulsing at the feel of his tongue. When she felt Harry grab her thigh and quickly pull it toward him, thereby pulling her toward him, she knew she had lost all hope.

"Harry…" she commenced, thinking she sounded drugged. And maybe she was- drugged on her friend's closeness, on the promise of carnal pleasure. His hand remained on her thigh and was now squeezing it eagerly.

"Hermione, I want us to both stop pretending," he instructed.

"Pre… pretending?"

"Yes. You stop pretending that you haven't been looking at me tonight in a certain way. I've caught it."

Hermione feebly shook her head at his assertion but her objection to what he had said was questionable; she was greatly enjoying the sensation of his hand on her upper leg and it may have been making her resolve obselete.

"Stop pretending that you didn't _feel_ me when we were dancing just now. That you didn't respond to me before you stopped." Harry remarked.

Heat flooded her face at this statement while she inhaled. It was not a lie. She _had_ felt how hard he had been and she had responded before fully recognizing what was happening. Having him point it out made it inescapable, however, something she had been attempting to do since she originally pulled away from him.

"Do you deny it?"

"N-No," she nearly whispered, eyes still shut.

"Mmmm," he uttered. His tongue ran over her bottom earlobe and she trembled, "Then I'll stop pretending that I haven't wanted to be near you all night, or that I haven't acted accordingly."

His sudden appearance downstairs and rough handling of Sam flashed in her mind, along with the knowledge that she had not usually gone more than 15 minutes while upstairs without Harry being by her side.

He then placed a tiny kiss right behind her ear. The level of dizziness spiked and made breathing even more arduous for Hermione, which was saying something as she had not been able to breathe normally since they went to dance the very first time. Harry was rapidly and efficiently making her fall apart and she felt like she were watching the tempestuous ordeal from outside herself.

The brunette opened her mouth to verbalize something but he was speaking once more.

"I'll also stop pretending that I don't want to do anything but lay you back and _shag_ you, right here, right now, in front of everybody."

Hermione lost the battle for composure. Her entire body reacted at his admission and she emitted an indecent moan that was also part gasp, while her face screwed up at the image of Harry's desire.

What he had just said…. What he had just _said_!

She could not think straight. And she was sure that she actually did swoon this time, feeling herself lean into him as she licked her (seemingly) perpetually dry lips. Hermione felt him grip her tighter in response, his breathing becoming more ladened. She was back in the oven and the heat had been turned to the highest setting. How the hell was she even supposed to reply to that?

"Harry, you, you..." she began shakily.

"I what? Don't tell me I don't mean it, Hermione," the Auror asserted, "Because I do. I would do it in a heartbeat if I knew you wouldn't object."

Once again, the visual of Harry having sex with her on this couch with everyone present played in her brain. But he had lifted her chin and pulled it toward his face, causing her to look at him while the image flashed across her mental space. Harry saw that she looked desperate and rattled and decidedly red in the face, which was a direct reflection of how he himself felt. He wanted Hermione in a searing way and there was no hiding it now.

"That dress makes it very hard to think about anything other than taking it off your body," he noted in a raw voice.

Harry had planned on throwing any remaining stitch of caution to the wind and chosen to simply kiss her, as he had lost his own battle of control, but the witch acted before he could. Hermione took a deep breath in before her hands quickly moved to cradle the nape of his neck and she launched herself forward, connecting their lips for the first time in a year.

It was the breaking of the dam that he needed.

Harry wasted no time in showing reciprocity. Releasing a groan that conveyed appreciation and stark desire, his hand on her neck became firmer and the other pulled her so much into him that her right leg now rested over his left thigh, her dress riding up a bit. The oven Hermione had been in had now exploded from the heat. His blatant expression of lust- of craving her- had given her reason to no longer bother denying hers. And she would not, because it seemed he wanted her just as much she wanted him. After dancing around one another all night, literally and figuratively, this was actually happening.

Their tongues came into contact with one another in an astonishingly short amount of time. Hermione moaned when she felt his roll over hers and into her mouth, and her hands left his neck in order for her arms to wrap around it instead. Harry wanted to pull her even closer but that was a difficult feat as she was, now, practically in his lap. He let their tongues push sensually against each other a little longer before he changed direction, suckling and biting her bottom lip. His body jolted with the memory that he used to love doing this to her and that it evoked a pleased response from her.

Harry felt vindication when she whimpered. Vindication and the beginning stages of the reawakening of a certain part of his anatomy. He did it once more and this time she pushed her chest into his, one hand sliding up into his hair and clutching it. Hermione pulled at his messy locks and he gave a low growl; he attached his mouth to hers again and his tongue propelled itself back into her mouth in a rapacious manner.

Their kisses were disorderly and impassioned but neither person cared. The heat that had been simmering within and between them all night had finally reached its peak and spilled over into their kissing, and it appeared to be too much to contain. Harry's left hand had slipped under her dress and, when his fingers brushed against the fabric of her panties, he felt his dick twitch. He moaned as Hermione angled her head in a different direction and he followed. He was also hyper aware of her breasts pressed stubbornly against him. Harry wanted to kiss the tops of her breasts. He wanted to _see_ her breasts. He wanted to see her naked.

He had to do something about it.

Panting again, he detached his lips from hers and moved back a bit, peering into her eyes. They were huge and somewhat unfocused yet filled with yearning, and he knew his had to look similarly.

"Come home with me," the wizard prompted in a haggard voice. Hermione only stared at him briefly before nodding earnestly.

" _Now_." Harry added urgently. Her gaze remained on him and she flushed again for what had to be the 100th time that night. She found herself robbed of air while she nodded a second time, buzzing at the proposition that was to become a reality in hardly anytime at all.

He felt as though all the air had been let out of him, and he made a corresponding sound before placing a hurried kiss on her lips and letting her detangle from his embrace so he could spring to his feet. They had to get out of here. A part of him had requested they leave now before he was completely aroused and unable to hide it from others' eyes, but it was mostly because Harry felt he needed her. And like he had alluded earlier- he knew the brunette would not permit him to fulfill this need on the sofa.

Once she was back on her feet, Hermione allowed herself to look around and finally take in the room and its occupants in what seemed like 10 years. She had a reprieve from all things Harry and what she saw made a distant part of her want to blush and hide behind something. More than half of the wizards and witches present were gawking at them, and half of that group rushed to look away and feign preoccupation when they noticed the pair had separated. With Harry's lips and much of the mental fog on pause, Hermione realized that, of course, the others would have noticed their lawless display of physical affection.

He made to grab her hand and plow determinedly toward the exit but she touched his upper arm, stopping him.

"We need to say goodbye. To everyone," she alerted.

He looked at her for a tick, appearing impatient, but quickly nodded and the two went in different directions once they got past the couches. Hermione made her way to Angelina, Alicia, and the Hufflepuffs first, bidding them hasty goodbyes with a hug or two before she got to Ginny and Luna.

"I'm leaving," the Muggleborn declared, sharing a tight hug with Luna.

"But you came with me." Ginny observed. She struggled to keep her face and tone neutral but it was terribly difficult. She had seen Hermione's and Harry's infectious make out session and had wanted to shriek from giddy satisfaction.

"I'm, er… Harry's going to escort me home!"

"Ah!" Luna said, smiling in her pensive way.

"And make sure you get to bed all right, I'm sure!" the red head remarked, failing to keep the large, complacent grin off her face. The older witch gave her a look before bequeathing her a fast hug. Their blonde friend giggled.

"Ginny-" Hermione started. But she was cut off.

"You will tell me _everything_ tomorrow, Granger!"

Hermione peered at Ginny, wanting to show some defiance but knowing she had no foot to stand on; instead, she gave a single, curt nod before leaving, Ginny's tickled laughter floating in her ears.

Harry was faster in his goodbyes and got to every male present. Consequently, when he turned to Ron, their female best friend joined his side shortly thereafter.

"Leaving, I see? Together?" prompted Ron.

"He's seeing me home." Hermione attested, going to hug the tall red head.

"Whose home?" the red head mouthed at Harry over the witch's shoulder. The Auror shot him a pointed look and Ron merely grinned, his eyes bright and alive. Seeing the look on Ron's face caused Harry's fake, firm demeanor to waver and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"We'll see you and Luna later, then," he informed. Harry moved forward to give the other wizard a one armed hug, which Ron returned, but the latter did not let Harry go until he had mumbled something in his ear. Hermione watched them and narrowed her eyes when she saw the dark haired man's smirk grow before he shook his head.

"Make sure she gets home safely, mate!" Ron advised as Harry grabbed the witch's hand and strode toward the exit.

Hermione could hear the enthusiastic chatter amongst their friends and surmised that much (if not most) of it was in reference to the two of them. She also saw Parvati and Padma standing near the bar, watching her and Harry leave the room. Parvati's arms were crossed and she appeared smug. The brunette felt contrite and looked away sheepishly, thinking that she should likely apologize to the other woman for her earlier behavior in the very near future.

"Oy, Granger! I never got my dance!" Lee exclaimed with outstretched arms.

"Raincheck!" she called back.

"I'd better wake up tomorrow to the news that I'm going to be an uncle in nine months!" Ron shouted with an arm around his wife, while his two best friends crossed the room's threshold. Warmth flooded the Muggleborn's face as she heard laughs, cat calls, and whoops of mirth come from the others at his words. She could only imagine the subsequent types of discussions that would be had about her and Harry in their absence, but there was a more pressing matter to which to attend: going home with him and continuing what their dancing had started.

* * *

They Apparated back to Harry's apartment but ended up in different locations. He landed in his kitchen while Hermione popped right outside of his front door.

 _Wards_ , she thought. There had once been a time when Hermione had not only been directly keyed into the wards but had lived in this very apartment, and standing outside facing the door made it seem like that had been decades ago. Harry sprinted to the door in order to let her in and distantly thought that maybe they should have used Side Along. But perhaps it was for the best that they had not, as his focus may have been greatly impaired by having Hermione right next to him. He would have probably failed to keep his hands off her and ended up Slinching one or both of them.

His broom was laid right in front of the door and he snatched it up before tossing it out of the way. He then gripped the door handle and yanked it inward, only to stare at her for a rapid moment before reaching for her upper arm and pulling her inside. The door slammed behind Hermione as she threw her arms around Harry's neck and commenced kissing him again, making a noise that conveyed contentment at being reunited in this way. He held her tightly and returned the kisses with zest, staggering back some from the florid manner of their movements. He bumped into his broom, which had actually hovered when he had hastily thrown it, and lifted one hand to wave erratically in the broom's general direction. It fell to the floor with a dull thud while he began to walk them backwards, still connected to her by the mouth.

Hermione was in wonder that her heart had not tapped out by now and ceased pumping from non-stop stimulation. It had been escalated for what seemed like the past two hours and, now that she was actually alone with Harry, in the privacy of his home, it actually seemed to increase in its speed. He guided them to the kitchen although he had stumbled more than once on the way, and now they stood in the middle of it still exchanging zealous kisses. Hermione was unsure why he had led them to the kitchen and not his bedroom, but this was forgotten in the next moment when she felt Harry's hands zoom down and grab her ass.

She emitted a surprised but delighted squeak when he squeezed and then smacked it; the sound transformed into a breathy laugh when he moaned into her mouth. Subsequently, she had a moan to mirror his when he then commenced rutting against her. With him keeping her in place like this, the witch could feel _all_ of Harry, and it quickly made her fully aware of her own arousal- of how much need there seemed to be between her legs.

Hermione pushed back against him, striving to find some relief through the pleasurable friction. Consequently, she was turned around suddenly and the next thing she knew the small of her back was pressing into one of the kitchen's counters. Harry then grabbed her securely by the waist and hoisted her up on the surface before swiftly stepping in between her legs. Exhilaration bubbled all throughout her body and she smiled as she placed a kiss on his forehead; he used one hand to move the dress off her shoulder and kissed the newly exposed skin.

"I want to get you out of this dress and see you naked, but I don't think I can wait that long!," Harry revealed, his voice still that raspy tenor, "Hermione, I-I want to be inside of you! Very badly."

She was not expecting for those words to have such an effect on her but they did. They were just as rousing as any of his physical touches had been and she rushed to show him that she was in total agreement.

"Yes. Yes!" the brunette attested, trading another kiss while her hands went to his pants and seized upon his fly to undo it.

Harry felt like he could have flown without a broom due to her eager consent. There was an accompanying dose of adrenaline and surge of blood that he knew traveled to his groin, making him even harder. Both of his hands shot down to the bottom of her dress and shoved it up until it gathered around her waist, revealing a nice pair of skimpy, black panties that he stared at for a second. Hermione had just finished unbuttoning and unzipping his pants when she noticed he was gazing at the provocative fabric that was covering her.

"Take them off!" she ordered, stroking him through his boxers now that she had much better access.

Harry was unsure if she was referring to her underwear or his pants but it did not matter; he took a sharp inhale of breath before releasing a lurid groan when he felt her touch. Jesus- it felt magnificent. He shook his head hurriedly, to both get a grip and not fall to pieces from her ministrations, and to indicate that he would not follow her order. He was kissing her hungrily once more, his left hand holding her face while his right was moving down below. Hermione felt his hand brush into hers as he extracted his member from his boxers, and an inflamed puff of breath passed over her lips, in disbelief at how galvanized she felt.

She went to remove her undergarments since they were still a barrier but Harry batted her hand away. Instead, as fast as lightning, he shoved her panties to the side and, in the following instant, Hermione felt him enter her.

The speed of his action had caught her off guard but it did not detract from how glorious it felt. Clutching his shoulders, she simultaneously gasped and moaned at the sensation of being full and the two sounds melded together as he started moving inside her.

Harry felt momentarily speechless upon sheathing himself inside of Hermione. It was a culmination of many things: physical satisfaction, reunification, disbelief, and the end of a months long sexual drought. With his first thrust, he realized it had been entirely too long. The last time he had had sex was at the beginning of June and it had not exactly been intentional.

He, Ron, Dean, and Seamus had gone out to Muggle Dublin one summer night, three of them intent on getting their pureblooded friend more exposure to Muggles. Harry had insisted they go to Ireland instead of gallivanting in Muggle London as the chances of being found by the English wizarding press were less pronounced. At some point during the night (at a lively pub), he had struck up lasting conversation with a good looking woman with dark hair. Accordingly, not quite two hours later and with only a first name and occupation to go by, he had separated from his friends at her suggestion and the two wound up having sex in the women's single occupant bathroom.

Granted, this illicit act of theirs caused them and the people with whom they had come to get kicked out of the establishment once they had been found out by a worker, but Harry, his friends laughing at his side once they were out on the pavement again, had thought it had been worth it. But that had been about four months ago and he was painfully aware of it now. His body berated him for depriving them for that long. Harry knew Ginny was right and that a large number of witches (and some wizards, for that matter) found him appealing for a variety of reasons. He knew that these people would be more than willing to go to bed with Harry Potter but that did not mean he would ever act on it. And even if he was to indulge on occasion, he could perfectly envision the media catching wind of it and having a field day, as it did whenever he did anything other than showing up to work and going directly home.

And this would even happen in the best case scenario, which was his partner keeping quiet and going about her life as though it was not a big deal. Worse case scenario was that the woman would run to the press the minute she had slept with him, offering the most outrageous story of what happened to whatever source would give her the biggest payoff. And to top it all off, a couple months later she would assert that Harry was the father of her unborn child but was rejecting his place in the child's life, and it just broke her heart because she simply wanted her child to know its father.

So, if foregoing regular sex meant avoiding the headache that came with possible yet hounding media involvement, he was willing to merely go without sex…. But being inside Hermione again as she sat perched on the counter made him question what the hell possessed him to think he could go without this. Or maybe it was more accurate to question what made him think he could go without doing this with _her_ … because being connected with her again like this was consuming.

"I've missed you. I've missed you!," Harry relayed sincerely, "I've- oh, _Merlin_!"

He then stilled, although he had only been moving for a bit. He had to gather himself for a moment; encountering heat and moisture from all angles was currently overwhelming, in the best way possible. This is how he would lose his mind.

"God, I've missed you _both_!" he said haggardly into her ear, moving again and moving with vigor.

Hermione felt as though she could have purred, loving his quickened pace and knowing the other entity to which he referred when he said "both." She quite agreed with his statement and softly bit the shell of his ear to show him as much, revelling in the fact that this was really happening.

Harry did not last long. There was no way he could have. He had been too excited for too long that night and she felt too fucking _good_. Hermione resorted to crying out when his rocking became much more forceful and her sounds did nothing to help his endurance. They weakened it, in fact, and he found himself climaxing before he expected or wanted it.

" _Shit_!," he exclaimed, right before falling over the precipice, "H-Hermione!"

He couldn't stop his orgasm so he closed his eyes and bit his lip as he experienced pure bliss for that brief stint of time, vaguely disappointed it was already over but much more absorbed in the shock of pleasure he was receiving. Hermione, conversely, was more aware of the disappointment. It had been amazing to feel Harry's pumping and so promising- promising for what was in store for her- but it had given way to his end too soon. She watched him with an imploring look on her face and it remained there until he had finished and was peering at her.

He repeatedly shook his head, breathing deeply, and then leaned forward slowly.

"Harry," she said, the beseeching nature translating into her tone of voice.

"I know," he claimed. His forehead was pressed against hers.

"I… I didn't want to stop dancing!"

Harry chuckled appreciatively at her analogy and then remarked:

"You were _too_ good of a dancer, love! Give me a couple minutes to recover; that's all I need."

"Okay," the Muggleborn agreed, placated.

"There's no way in _hell_ that I'm done with you." His lips lingered near hers and he gave her a searing kiss before moving his mouth to her neck. Hermione emitted a pleased hum as he started to suck, her hand groping his hair once more.

Harry was right in his declaration that he was not done with her. After the kitchen, they made a gradual progression to his bedroom but would get physically distracted by one another and simply have sex wherever they were at the time. These locations included the living room floor, against a wall in the hallway, in the shower, and, finally, his bed. Each sequence also found them with less and less clothing, and Hermione was more than fulfilled by the time they had finally fallen asleep, nude and exhausted yet satisfied and cuddled together under the bedding.

* * *

Hermione awoke before Harry. The sun's rays were streaming in through his window fairly confidently for it to be an autumn day, and it was partially the reason why she had roused from sleep. The woman stretched out like a cat while a yawn passed over her lips. She wondered what time it was before deciding that she did not care, and she turned to gaze at the sleeping form next to her. She studied him for a while before doing anything else, focusing on his face. Hermione enjoyed the simplicity and intimacy of watching him, gently stroking the side of his face and encountering the hair along his jawline. Harry kept it well groomed. She remembered when he had first stopped actively getting rid of his facial hair years ago and how it had been symbolic of his transition from an adolescent to a man. It had actually been around the time they had started dating- when he was 22.

Hermione let her mind wander back to the first part of their romantic relationship together, which seemed so long ago now even though it was only four years prior. She recalled many of their firsts and, inadvertently, she thought of the first time they had made love. It had happened only one week after they were an official couple and one full month after they had begun dating overall.

The pair had been at Grimmauld Place in the downstairs sitting room, lying together near the empty hearth and talking. Although the cold weather of the season would have warranted a fire, it was during the day and they had chosen to enact warming charms instead. Fueled by the knowledge that they were a couple now, they spoke excitedly with each other until someone moved to initiate a kiss. This kiss silenced conversation but ushered in physical affection, and the two became absorbed in that. Unlike when they had merely been dating, they did not monitor their kisses or touches to ensure they did not escalate, and, without this self imposed supervision, things _did_ escalate.

Neither thought their first time together would have happened this way and without such forethought, but it did not matter in the slightest as Harry entered Hermione for the very first time and they set a rhythm together. Flames erupted in the fireplace at some point but the two did not notice the fire until they had finished, sweating and clinging to one another. It was then that the couple saw the flames and felt notable surprise before they laughed at what their magic had done unawares. (Harry, personally, had taken it as a positive sign of good things to come).

Present day Hermione moved to sit up and immediately winced. She was sore, but with all of the activity she and Harry had done she should have expected as much. Hermione shifted more to her left and caught sight of the tattoo on Harry's left shoulder blade: a Snitch.

A smile bloomed on her lips.

He had gotten the magical tattoo two years ago at a shop in Diagon Alley. It was stationary until one touched it, upon which it would flutter to life and zoom over Harry's upper body until it was "caught." She had had a lot of fun playing Seeker during the last year of their relationship, and the same feeling of fondness washed over her as she stared at it. Deciding there was nothing wrong with paying homage to the past, Hermione reached out and touched his tattoo. The Snitch's wings vibrated rapidly before the entire ball came to life and immediately flew to a different area of his back. Her grin grew and the witch began the hunt.

Hermione's chasing of the Snitch eventually woke up the man beside her. There was only so much space on Harry's back the ball could utilize to escape being caught but it did a good job of it; she repeatedly missed it and the frequent touching of different parts of his skin caused Harry to be lulled out of sleep. The first thing that came to his ears was a low, feminine giggle and it took him a moment to place to whom it could have belonged.

The events of the club played in Harry's head at an expeditious pace and a grin began to form on his countenance. Hermione.

She, meanwhile, had noticed he was rousing and she stopped pursuing the Snitch. The brunette's smile remained in place as she watched him rub his eyes and rest himself on his forearms.

"Hello." Harry greeted, gazing at her with a sleepy grin.

"Hello," came the warm reply.

"Having a round of morning Quidditch?"

"I was tempted."

The wizard continued to grin as he looked her over, the sheet wrapped loosely around her torso. Her hair was everywhere but she seemed to be glowing.

"I always did like when you used to do that," he revealed, sitting up now and stretching his arms, "How do you feel?"

"Hmmm. Considering the circumstances… pretty content." Hermione responded, eyes flickering to his chest. The Snitch was happily dashing across the new expanse of exposed skin.

"Circumstances?"

"Yes. Lots of alcohol- too much, most likely- and then a very thorough work out for my body."

Her head actually was swimming a bit, a reminder of the liquor she had consumed at the club. It was not bad enough to make her feel sick but it was apparent enough to remind her she had overdone it.

"Oh. _Those_ circumstances," Harry stated, sounding amused, "Well, one of them was my fault so you have my apologies… even though I'm not all that sorry."

"Scoundrel," she remarked. He smirked and moved forward, taking her face in his hand and kissing her languidly. Hermione felt a small blush heat her cheeks but she returned his affection wholeheartedly.

Being in Harry's presence seemed different now that the sun was up and they were no longer in the heat of the moment, or influenced by the atmosphere of the club. It was just them, in his bed, and it made her feel somewhat shy. What did he think of everything, of all the things they had said and done in the previous 12 hours? Would they continue on as though nothing had happened once she left his apartment? The same questions that had formed while dancing with him were back and would have to be answered.

"Harry," she tentatively commenced when he had pulled away, "We… we should probably talk about what this means for us. What we did. We should discuss how it's going to affect our... friendship, moving forward. It doesn't have to be right now or even today, but, I think we have to."

He looked at her before his attention was drawn to the Snitch flying about on his chest. He watched it reflectively for a moment or two before quickly reaching out and tapping it. It stilled and then, defeatedly, flew back to its home on his shoulder blade.

"Yes, you're right," the Auror exhaled, musing his already untamable hair.

"We've been back on good terms for months now but this is a huge leap. It could take us in a completely different direction if we let it go unchecked."

"Yeah. I definitely don't think either of us expected the night would end up that way." _With you naked back in my bed_ , he mentally added. She nodded.

"Do you… think it was a mistake?" Hermione questioned, sounding nervous. She was unsure how the situation should be categorized but she knew she had not regretted it, and she did not want him to either.

"No." Harry asserted without hesitation.

The witch nodded again, gazing at her lap and feeling relief. It was quiet for an interval of time before the witch gasped audibly and her eyes widened. She looked at him rapidly and fear was evident on her face.

"Oh my God. Oh my _God_!" she uttered.

"What? What is it?" he replied, feeling alarm race through him.

" _Damn_ it! Oh no. Oh no! Oh no, oh no, oh no!"

"Hermione!"

"I!- Harry, w-we didn't put any protection in place!" Hermione revealed. Harry felt alleviation settle within him for some reason… it was nothing menacing, at least. He considered what she had said before speaking.

"No charms," he acknowledged. Indeed, they had not used contraception spells at any point during the five separate times they had had sex.

"No!"

"Aren't you taking a potion?"

"Well, normally, y-yes," she relayed, her face reddening somewhat, "But I haven't for the past three weeks because, well… I haven't really seen the need."

"Oh," was all Harry said, realizing what this meant- what this could mean.

"Ergh, how could I be so stupid?!"

"Hermione, you're not stupid."

"I overlooked protection, which should be the _first_ thing you think about when it comes to sex! We both did!" Hermione avidly insisted.

"We, we were a little too caught up! We weren't thinking clearly but it's okay; it's not the end of the world!" he remarked.

"I haven't had prevention for three weeks now and we just shagged ourselves senseless, Harry. No, it's not the end of the world but this is still a real problem!"

"Yes, but don't get too worked up. You don't want to stress yourself for nothing!"

"For nothing? Harry, the 'something' is pregnancy!" she declared a bit shrilly.

"You don't even know that it'll actually happen!" Harry insisted, laughing once.

"Probability may have something to say about that."

"Well, if that's the case, then we should start discussing baby names."

"Harry," Hermione stated flatly, gazing at him sharply, "Why aren't you taking this more seriously?"

"I just don't want you fretting and worrying like this, is all!," he chuckled, "Okay, no- we didn't have any protection. But that doesn't mean you will automatically get pregnant! And even if you do… then Ron's wish to be an uncle will be granted and he'll be ecstatic!"

The brunette stared at him incredulously. He was still being blase about the manner and even finding humor in it. Did he not understand the severity of this?

"This is not a joke! You do not seem to care that this is an actual possibility! It's not far fetched or paranoia or anything like that! This _can_ happen; it happens all the time!," she heatedly lectured, "And you're sitting there laughing and telling me to not worry about it as though it's impossible! There is a very real chance that I could get pregnant, Harry!"

"So? So what if you did? _Would_ it be the end of the world?" he challenged, peering back at her boldly with a tiny scowl.

Hermione appeared floored. She stared at him with her mouth gaping. Harry gazed back until he replayed the words he had said that had flown from his mouth with conscious thought; he then broke eye contact and flushed a rich shade of red. Another instance of his mouth acting before his brain could catch up.

It was silent as he stared at his bedding and glowered at himself while she peered steadily at him.

"What are you trying to say, Harry?" Hermione posited carefully. He sighed loudly but did not respond immediately. The wizard let his scowl melt away before he spoke.

"Obviously, you getting pregnant after an unplanned shag-a-thon following a night out is not ideal," Harry commenced in a subdued tone, "It's not exactly the condition under which I would _want_ to… to impregnate you, and it's not how I envisioned it. If it ever did happen."

She had not ceased in staring at him but now her eyes had grown very wide.

"I was thinking of proposing to you months before we broke up. I even went to look at rings," he muttered, "But then things became rocky between us and there was tension that hadn't been there before, and then... then we were broken up and you couldn't stand the sight of me."

He finally looked up to meet her gaze.

"I don't blame you, Hermione. I know I was the main cause for the end of our relationship. How I acted those last couple months… it was mostly my fault. I led us to splitting apart and I'm surprised you stayed as long as you did," Harry continued, "I regret how things ended and I think I always will. You didn't deserve that. I would have strangled someone else for treating you that way and yet I did it myself. I was really afraid after we broke up that you'd never speak to me again, that I actually had lost you."

She had heard some variant of this confession since the time they had mended things but he had never seemed so vulnerable before. Personal, yes, and sincere- of course- but not vulnerable. Hermione nodded at last, feeling a couple tears spring to her eyes.

"I was devastated when I found my things by the door. I cried the entire time l packed everything else up and for a few good hours after that when I got to my parents house," she relayed.

His entire body slumped in shame and she shook her head.

"No, Harry," Hermione negated, "Don't take sole responsibility. You weren't the only person in our relationship- I was as well and some of the fault is mine. We both hurt each other toward the end and, that day, we both said horrible things to each other. Even with that being the case, I was shocked when I got back here and saw my belongings all gathered together. I knew what it meant."

"I did it impulsively. I regretted it after 30 minutes of being at Ron's," he mentioned.

"You do most things impulsively."

They both smiled before a natural pause in the conversation manifested.

"I suppose even through all of the ugliness of that day, a part of me didn't expect us to break up," she attested.

"I didn't either. I just wish it hadn't happened like that… and I'm sorry." Harry added.

There was a longer pause where neither said anything and Harry was the one to interrupt it.

"I said I'd always want to protect you but it's the same for love. No matter what may happen, I'll always love you," he revealed.

"I know you will." Hermione claimed, smiling.

"Yes, but more than that. I… I don't think I ever stopped being _in_ love with you. Through things ending between us, through the rough six months after that, through the last five months where we reconnected… through everything that happened in the past year."

It was silent but Harry had lost his nerve to look her in the face. He had just disclosed something very significant to Hermione, something he had not verbalized to anyone, and he could not take it back. Consequently, he had more to share.

"And so maybe that's why I acted that way when you pointed out that you could get pregnant. An old version of me- when it had seemed possible- had been able to see a future with you that included marriage and kids. I _do_ want them, and maybe that fact coupled with my unresolved feelings for you… maybe that's why I said what I did. Maybe old Harry resurfaced for that moment," the Auror explained. There was silence once more but he did not break it this time.

"You're still in love with me?" Hermione gently questioned. Harry shrugged and then glanced at her apprehensively, scared he might see rejection on her expression. But he could not see consternation on her countenance or outrage, and she actually looked amazed. It was massive reassurance.

"I know we're not in a position where we're anywhere close to be thinking about marriage or anything, let alone talking about it," he noted, "We're not even dating. And after last night, I don't even know where we stand! I think shagging each other multiple times effectively removed us from the 'just friends' category."

"Yes," she confirmed, giggling once as her cheeks tinged pink. She was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that her best friend had admitted that he was still in love with her.

"So, now, we're in this really weird place and I don't know how to move forward, especially after everything I've just told you. It'll be pretty difficult to act like none of this happened."

"Unresolved feelings," the witch uttered simply, using her fingers to run over Harry's knuckles. He watched her movements until he flipped his hand over and took her hand in his, grasping it.

"Hermione, how do we move forward?" he asked, peering at her.

"How do you want to move forward?"

"I don't know. All I know is that I _want_ to."

"Move forward as we were doing or move forward toward something more? Something we used to have?" Hermione prompted.

"Something we used to have." Harry murmured, staring at their intertwined hands. An elongated bout of silence followed this, during which he became concerned that she did not want the same thing, did not want to take the same path.

"So we'll do it one step at a time. And slowly. And together," she softly remarked. The wizard peered up at her to see that she was smiling. His heart sung.

"Okay," he nodded, eyes appearing emotional as he grinned hopefully. Hermione moved forward and pressed her lips against his, and Harry put his free hand against her neck as he returned it with gratitude.

"I guess we ended up having that talk after all," she stated.

"I reckon it'll be the first of many?"

"Quite. We have a lot to work out."

"Do you think some of the others can also take place in my bed?" Harry wondered, his smirk creeping onto his face.

"I said slowly, Harry. Slowly," the woman replied, feeling mild exasperation but also amusement. She found it hard to be truly vexed right now with the amount of quiet elation that was coursing through her.

"Oh, I can _definitely_ go slowly," he attested, his smirk becoming larger, "Here, let me show you."

Harry grabbed Hermione around her waist and pulled her on top of him, falling back and grinning as he brought their mouths together once more. She gave a yelp of surprise, reproach, and mirth, and she found herself grinning as she offered no resistance and reciprocated his kisses.

* * *

A/N: It took me longer to finish this chapter than I was anticipating but it is finally done! So, I have some news that I wanted to share about this story: it is actually (going to be) the first installment of a 3 part series. The other two installments are mapped out in my head and I'm excited to get them going, but I plan on writing and publishing a different H/Hr fic (i.e., a one-shot set at Hogwarts) before I get to the second part of this series. If you want to see what comes of Harry and Hermione following this story, keep me on your radar!


	4. Update

Hello! I just wanted to alert followers of this fic that I started posting for the follow up fic to this one: _Years From Now_.


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